Racing Time
by NurfHurdur
Summary: He'd finally found the perfect family, but now in 2037 Cornelius Robinson is in a race against the clock to keep his family out of harm's way. When a mysterious letter arrives in the mail concerning his son he knows there's not much time.
1. Just Another Day

Author Note: Hey, this is my first fanfiction ever. I'm just getting the hang of everything so any advice is appreciated.

I love Meet the Robinsons and this has been playing in the back of my mind for a while.  
Thanks to a few good friends of mine I've finally decided to upload it. I hope you enjoy!

**EDIT: Tried fixing some things, school has me so busy!**

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Rain pelted the heavy glass windows. As he stared out across the vast city he noted that it sounded a little to much like the rain sticks he'd played with as a kid. Of course, though, he'd been the one to take it apart, much to the disappointment of the other children of 6th Street. Only to find that it was just a hollow pole filled with plastic beads. When tilted this way or that it gave the ridiculously realistic sound of a torrential downpour.

It was a chilly rain, the kind that seeped into your bones, which was odd for the end of May. He tapped the desk with a pen and ran a hand through blond hair. Blue eyes scanned the paper in front of him, the day had not been a productive one that was certain. Aside from the fact that he had not accomplished anything he was in an exceedingly good mood. A group of students from Wilkes University had toured the labs today and would begin an internship within the next months before classes started again in the fall. They seemed to be a promising group and he looked forward to working with each of them. Interns always had fun, new and interesting ideas. All they needed was a nudge in the right direction and that small idea could launch them into a rather high end position within Robinson Industries.

Lightning illuminated his desk momentarily, a crack of thunder followed jolting him out of his trance. He stood, studying his own fine handwriting as he did so and stretched. There was bustling activity in the halls despite the weather, and the atmosphere was very animated. The artificial lights gave an eerie contrast to the blackness the storm created outside. He noticed Jake Conner through the windows of his personal lab, the right hand man of Robinson Industries so to speak, and made a mental note of speaking with him in private later about certain activities that had caught his attention.

Conner was sometimes what could only be described as 'overly paranoid.' Which also happened to be one of the reasons he trusted the man with everything involving his company. The only problem being that Jake was always under the impression that Robinson Industries' largest rivals were always devising plans to undermine the company and cause them to go bankrupt. His loyalty was unquestionable, they had known each other since college, despite the seven year age difference, and Jake had been with RI from the very beginning. He had even helped Robinson with the architectural designs of their main offices.

What concerned him, though, was the irate phone call he'd received from a certain Anthony Hughes, the head of the popular US Robotics Corporation. He had spent twenty minutes listening to the man accuse him of spying, and claimed that he had seen one of Robinson's employees hanging around the USR buildings. Cornelius didn't lose his temper much, but it had become very hard to hold himself in check while dealing with the man on the other end of the phone. First, Robinson Industries was number one in sales. Second, he had a code of ethics he followed and expected all of his employees to follow as well. He had explained rather bluntly to the man these two points and had hung up on him before receiving an answer. It was good RI no longer did business with USR. They had created their own microchips years ago, which he was suddenly very thankful for.

He made his way to the office's snack room, thinking the conversation over internally. If someone from RI _had_ in fact been seen around USR, it could only be Conner. Not that the man would spy, but it seemed like something Conner would do. He wasn't exactly sure _why _Conner would be outside a rival's main office, though, and that's what bothered him. It was because of this that he needed to speak to Jake. The longer it was left unsettled the more he would over analyze and eventually begin to fret over it. He would catch him on his way out this evening and explain his concerns.

Realizing his thoughts were dragging down his good mood he turned back to the matter at hand, food. He stood in front of the vending machine contemplating the different snack bars and bags of chips, and was about to put his change in the machine when a familiar color scheme caught his eye from the counter to his right.

A fundraiser box with the ever popular Chargeball symbol sat propped against the wall. Energy bars endorsed by AYCA, or the American Youth Chargeball Association, used a margin of their profits to fund young players with trips to tournaments and provided couches with the proper equipment to keep players safe and fitted with the latest gear. He smiled and put his money into the lid, allowing the electronic box to open so he could make his selection. Grabbing one of the few remaining bars he turned back to the hallway and headed for the auditorium. There were always gadgets being proposed there, and he figured that since his current project hadn't gotten off paper yet, he could spend the rest of the day screening what his employees had conjured up.

Upon entering, though, he was surprised at just how few people there were in the auditorium.

"That's definitely going to have to change." He thought a little cynically to himself. Scheduling times and appointments would have to go back into affect it looked like, which was to bad, he had enjoyed the informal atmosphere of the place.

He walked towards the front of the aisle, spotting Jake he sat next to him and listened only partially to the brown haired woman at the front of the room. Jake had been having family problems, his father was currently in the hospital, the prognosis not looking good. To put it plainly Jake was taking the fact very hard, the stress causing him to behave oddly as of late. Cornelius had told him repeatedly to take as much time as he needed. Every morning, though, he would see Jake's office door open with the lights on and music playing. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, debating how to start. "What do you know about USR?"

Obviously his friend had been expecting the question, without looking at Robinson he responded. "Enough for me not to trust them."

Cornelius sighed in frustration. "C'mon Jake! The people at USR may be conceited and full of hot air, but what do you really think is going on?"

Jake looked to his superior in all seriousness. "There's this girl, I've seen her around here. I'm sure she works for USR though."

Cornelius stared at him, unblinking. He pulled his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt. "Everyone has to come through security Jake, the guards know everyone here."

"I know that Cornelius, I just like to be careful."

Robinson gave him a look of 'you're not fooling me' and added, "Yeah well, be careful hanging around in places eh?"

"Sure thing Robinson. Oh when's Wilbur's next game?"

Cornelius looked at him skeptically, partially for the change of subject, and partially because of what the subject was. He wanted Conner to realize the subject would not be dropped quickly. He followed the course of the conversation anyway. "I thought you hated Chargeball?"

Jake shrugged his shoulders in a non committing manner. "Not every day your Godson is entered into the playoffs of a national championship."

Cornelius smiled, Wilbur hadn't stopped talking about playoffs since he'd found out his team had been accepted. "June 2nd, it's a Saturday, two o'clock."

"Todayland Park?"

"Yep."

"I'll be there."

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He waited in the hover car, practice had been held in the glass enclosed gymnasium due to the rain that day. He could see the kids fairly well through the walls of the court and watched as Wilbur fixed his glove, waiting for the kid on the other end of the court to give his ready signal. Wilbur was one of the best on the team, but it wasn't something anyone ever played on. The boy knew he was good and that was that. Sure he was a cocky little cuss when he wanted to be, but when it came to his Chargeball team Wilbur never made a show of himself. He thanked the coach after a compliment and went back to playing. Cornelius was proud of his son for these reasons more than any ability his son had.

Practice was let out and he opened the rear door so his son could throw his duffle bag and equipment in the back. He watched as Wilbur climbed into the passenger seat and smiled. How'd practice go? You alright? That kid gave you a run for your money." He started the hover car as Wilbur gained his breath.

"Coach had me practice with Varsity today, those guys are amazing." He waved to the kid he'd just sparred with and turned back to his dad as they pulled into traffic. Cornelius spoke while checking his mirrors. "Varsity huh? Congratulations!"

Wilbur let out a puff of air, "Congratulations! Did you see that kid? He killed me."

"Coach is challenging you Wilbur, you should be proud he thinks you're ready for varsity team."

"Oh I'm not complaining!" Wilbur slumped in his seat and threw his feet on the dash of the car. "Just exhausted."

Cornelius nodded slightly. "I see. How was school?" Wilbur made a face at that, answering boredly, "The usual, but we had a double science period today to get ready for SSA testing."

"Learn anything new?"

Wilbur spoke again without looking away from the window. "No, that doesn't mean I'll remember any of it though."

Cornelius smiled, "I'm sure you'll do fine. You probably should study a little more than you do, though." Wilbur shrugged his shoulders, studying was at the bottom of his list of things to do and he barely ever looked at his notes. He was a procrastinator, there were far to many other things he could be doing. He definitely did not want to sit in his room looking over compounds or geometric diagrams.

The rest of the ride was spent in companionable silence. Cornelius glanced to where his son sat lounging in the passenger seat. Wilbur wasn't usually one to sit still, he was always fidgeting with _something. _If physically confined in one spot he'd twirl the cord to his head phones, pick at the straps of his backpack or mess with anything he happened to find close at hand. In the car this posed as a very large problem, everything belonged to and was used by Cornelius, who was very particular about anything concerning his work. Clip boards and notebooks were kept in the trunk when he knew his hover car would be used to taxi his son to and from school, the Chargeball courts, or to a friends house. His son's current state of lethargy spoke more than Wilbur himself did concerning how much he had done at school and practice that day. Chargeball practices started right after school was let out, and normally, were finished at about five o'clock. With the new prospect of a National Championship, though , practices were being held until six. Wilbur had been at the school for 11 hours that day, and Cornelius could see it on the boys face.

He floated the hover car into it's spot in the garage and shut off the engine. The comfortable silence had somehow changed, though he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Turning to Wilbur to ask if something was wrong, he smiled when he realized the boy had fallen asleep. He almost didn't want to wake him, it looked like a rather comfortable position. His feet propped on the dashboard, hands folded over his stomach and head tilted towards the window, breathing evenly and looking all together very content. Ruefully, Cornelius leaned across the car and tapped the boy's shoulder. When Wilbur didn't stir he tried shaking him awake, smiling warmly when groggy brown eyes looked to him in confusion. He exited the car and helped the still dazed thirteen year old grab his things from the back seat. Taking the travel tubes to Wilbur's room they deposited his gear and school books onto a desk. Cornelius took a quick look around.

"Really Will, how is a room this big always a mess?"

The side affects of sleep had begun to wear off, thanks to the travel tubes, and he watched his son stare blankly at the clutter surrounding them. Wilbur finally shrugged as they exited, "That's an excellent question." Cornelius rolled his eyes, leading the way down the hall to the kitchen. Wilbur continued undeterred, "Takes a special talent I guess."

"That it does."

The duo passed the dinning room without a glance. Dinner was always held at five thirty, and knowing that practices would begin to last longer Franny kept their plates in the kitchen. Cornelius shut off the warming trays, they grabbed silverware, and took a seat at the kitchen bar. By now most of the family was scattered throughout the house, back to whatever crazy projects they were working on. Franny walked gracefully through, Frankie sitting idly on her shoulder, and sat across from them. She gave a knowing look in Wilbur's direction, who was suddenly very interested in what was on his plate. She smiled sweetly to her husband.

"The funniest thing happened today Cornelius." Her husband was known to be an observant person, but momentarily he was completely oblivious to the glances she was sending in their son's direction.

"Oh? What did you do today?"

She leaned forward and allowed Frankie onto the counter, who sauntered in front of Wilbur and crossed his arms. Wilbur had stopped eating and stared at the singing frog in silence, eyes betraying the calm composure his posture tried to emulate. Franny continued speaking with her husband. "Well, I was wondering if you could take a look at Frankie, he couldn't get a single note out all day."

Cornelius looked to the frog in question, finally noticing the glare that the amphibian was directing at his son. The situation suddenly clicked, his intellect finally taking over. He rested his chin on his hand as he and his wife both looked at their son in mock confusion.

"That's awful. What do you think could have happened Wilbur?"

The teenager smiled awkwardly before shooting an accusing glance at the lead singer of Franny's band. His mother grinned and moved down the counter, taking her son's hands in hers she smiled sweetly, "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

Her son smiled forcefully, looking back at her with convincing innocence. Cornelius couldn't believe his acting ability, and wondered if Wilbur would someday make it his profession. He certainly could if he wanted to.

"I don't know what you're talking about mom, last time I saw Frankie was yesterday."

The singing frog stomped his foot and jumped back to Franny's shoulder. He sat self-righteously with his arms crossed, one long leg over the other. Looking at the hapless teenager smugly. Franny's smile began to disappear, "Wilbur?" He looked at her questioningly.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to Frankie?"

He glanced sideling at his dad, who waited expectantly, giving no sign of assistance. Wilbur sighed, "I had some chloroseptic that dad asked me to get from the lab, he was in the garage. I stopped in the kitchen to get a glass of water, and set it on the counter when you asked me to help with the groceries. After you'd left I asked Frankie what the gang had practiced."

His father cut him off, coming to his own conclusion, "He didn't answer did he?" Wilbur shook his head, "No."

Cornelius ran his hand over his face, now realizing what most likely happened. "Frankie, did you have some of Wilbur's water when he was helping his mother?" The frog nodded, and Cornelius waited for it to click. He wasn't disappointed when the suited amphibian 's eyes widened.

"Fran, it looks to me like Frankie drank the chloroseptic instead of Wilbur's water. I did notice that there was slightly less than what I had asked Wilbur for come to think of it. No, no, no don't worry." He smiled at the worried look on his wife's face, "It only numbed his throat. From the amount that was missing he should be singing again by tomorrow afternoon."

Franny sighed, her hand over her heart, "That's a relief, but why did you need a numbing agent in the garage?" Both his son and wife looked at him expectantly as he answered.

"There's a compound in chloroseptic that could make the time machine's engine run smoother. I'm working on separating it to create a faster running cleaner fuel."

Franny nodded, stood, rounded the counter and kissed her son's cheek. He rolled his eyes and pushed his plate towards the sink.

"If you had known you should have told me, but since you didn't then I'm sorry. If you do take chemicals out of the lab can you label them for me?" She hugged him and patted his back.

"Sure thing mom." He kissed her cheek quick, said good night to both of them and headed towards his room.

Opening the door he immediately noticed his gear and school things had been put away from where he and his dad had left them. He stood staring at the desk for a moment, wondering _why _anyone would put his things away, and secondly _who_. He waved it aside, to tired to worry about Chargeball equipment. Halfway up the stairs to his bed, which was incredibly inviting right now, a sudden sound from the closet caught his attention. He froze, nerves tingling with adrenaline, listening for anymore movement behind him. The only one to ever be in his room unannounced would be Carl, but as far as he knew the robot was recharging. He pivoted on his heel and faced the direction of the sounds. He'd shut the lights to the lower level off on his way up the steps and strained his eyes to see what could have possibly shifted in the corner closet. The door was open but that was all he could really tell. He rubbed his eyes and spoke quietly to himself as he reached the top level. More in an attempt to calm his own nerves than anything.

"I'm just tired."

It made sense though, testing at school, practice and not enough sleep had really wiped him out. He shut off the lights to the second level of his room, not even bothering to change, he didn't care if he slept in his clothes right now. He didn't even have the energy to get _under _the covers, just flopped onto his bed and let himself sink. Until a very loud crash resounded from the corner of the lower level.

He jolted upright, his eyes unadjusted to the dark made him wonder if they were actually open or closed. Lifting his hand to his face he yelped when he pocked himself in the eye. Alright definitely open. He turned his head in the direction of the sound and waited. His anxious expression turning into a glare when he recognized a certain figure, illuminated with a projected flashlight.

"Carl it is you! Why are you sneaking around my room?"

The robot looked up instinctively, blinding Wilbur in the process with the flashlight sprouting from his head. "Sorry little buddy. I know how tired you've been this week." He made the staircase to the top level in three mechanically graceful steps. "I thought I'd put your stuff away so you wouldn't have to worry about it."

Wilbur quirked an eyebrow and asked, "In the dark?"

"Well, I thought I could use the light and let you sleep."

Wilbur realized his shoes were still on. Kicking them off he said, "Thanks, but I think I'll be ok Carl."

The robot looked away haughtily, "Well someone's grouchy aren't they?"

Wilbur sighed, fighting with the covers that refused to cooperate. "I just want sleep Carl! This bed is calling my na- ouch! Would you turn your flashlight off!"

The robot complied, switching his sight programming to their heat sensors. Wilbur was suddenly a bright orange object amidst green and blue.  
"Sorry." He turned to descend down the stairs, "I'll wake you up at seven tomorrow morning."

All he received in response was an irritated groan from the bed. Carl never really sighed because he didn't actually breath, but he could roll his eyes at the teenager in the dark without Wilbur ever knowing it. Once he'd made it to the door he paused, using his mechanically heightened sense of hearing. The boy's breathing had already become steady, and if his sensors were functioning correctly Wilbur's heart rate had already slowed to the level of someone in deep sleep. Like the artificial older brother he was, he was careful in shutting the door. Seven o'clock would come way to early for the youngest Robinson.


	2. Didn't Say Goodbye

**Thanks to Reidluver and LaLaCat1 for your reviews! Here's chapter 2, enjoy XD**

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He jumbled with the keys in his hand. He did this every morning, unlocking a door should not be difficult. The Father of the Future should not have a problem with this simple task. For his personal office he still used an old fashioned key and lock, palm readers could be hacked. Plus, he liked the sound they made on a key ring. Right now, though, he was beginning to become irked, the key he was searching for seemed to be hiding. It may also have been the fact that the morning so far had been just plain awful. Wilbur had woken with an attitude, obviously not thrilled with the thought of another eleven hour day. Cornelius couldn't really blame him, but it had come to blows in the car. For as close as the two were, they still could really get on the other's nerves. He wasn't even sure what the argument had been about, but disputes with teenagers didn't always need a subject.

_Wilbur had sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed and glaring out the front windshield. Cornelius knew the twenty minute drive would be silent and refrained from the usual friendly banter. Not even out of the driveway, though, Wilbur grabbed a clip board that had managed not to make it to the trunk, where it would be safe. _

"_Wilbur can you please not touch my work? I need those kept in order to hand to the engineers. I don't think they're numbered."_

"_Mmm Hmm."_

_The blond let it go for a few minutes, personally annoyed with the silence that invaded the car. Wilbur started flipping through the diagrams, careful not to pull the sheets out of the clip board. Cornelius felt his jaw tighten, _"_Wilbur please."_

"_What? I'm not hurting anything!"_

Cornelius sighed, "_Those are very, very__ important papers. Please just leave them alone."_

_Narrowing his eyes, Wilbur tossed the clipboard into the back seat. Luckily for him the papers remained unmoved. _"_Why do you think everything I do will cause some huge catastrophe?"_

Cornelius scowled, "_Will, I didn't say that."_

"_You obviously think it! I'm never allowed to touch anything!"_

Cornelius kept his voice low, contrasting his son's raised voice perfectly. "_Calm down Will, I don't know what's got you going this morning but you need to cool it. I never said anything." He tried to lighten his son's mood. "Though you do have a tendency to get yourself, or your mother's frogs into trouble with my things." He was not very lucky this morning sadly. The teen continued to sulk._

"_Don't ask for my help anymore then."_

"_Wilbur knock it off, you know I was teasing."_

"_I'm serious." _

_Cornelius highly doubted that, but went with it anyway. _"_Alright then, from now on I want you to stay out of my lab, the time lab and the lower levels of the garage."_

Wilbur panicked, "_The time lab! I told Lewis I'd be there for his first day at InventCo!" _

_The elder Robinson smirked, he knew he'd get him somehow. _"_Too bad, should have thought of that earlier."_

_Wilbur glared, he was not breaking into the time lab again, the last time had caused way to many rifts in the time stream. He still had mechanical ant stings and a lava burn on his arm. No, not doing it again. _"_Fine! You're only disappointing yourself though." He turned away from his dad to glower out the window. _

_Cornelius pulled up to the curb in front of the school. _"_I think I'll understand."_

_Without responding, Wilbur grabbed his bag from the backseat, his movements quick and jerky, making sure not to even look at the stupid clip board that had started the whole thing._

"_I'll pick you up after practice."_

"_Yep." The car door slammed shut and the inventor watched the wiry teen stalk off to the front of the building. _

Finally finding the correct key he opened the door and dropped his things onto his desk. The clip board, that had remained intact until now slid across the desk and fell to the floor, scattering it's contents everywhere. He stared at the papers in shock.

"You have got to be kidding me."

He gathered the papers from the floor, then moved to sit at his desk to put them back in order, pausing at the sight of the first diagram. The AYCA had put an ad out that they were looking into modifications to make their Chargeball equipment even more safe. Of course RI had put a bid in, with designs and complicated programming. He contemplated the events in the car, this is probably what had caught Wilbur's attention in the first place.

They'd never parted without a "see you later, love you" before, and for some reason it made his stomach turn. He understood temper tantrums, he had been a teenager at one point. He hoped it would blow over soon, having Wilbur there the day he started at InventCo had meant a lot.

The rain hadn't let up yet at all and it was predicted to last for at least another two days. Perfect, it reflected his mood. A crack of thunder sounded and the lights flickered overhead. Pulling out his notebook he jotted down a few notes to himself on starting a plan concerning power during thunder storms, that is if he ever finished his current project. He'd have to pursuade Wilbur to help him with it, maybe after exams and his Chargeball matches. He needed his son's knowledge of Chargeball to make effective modifications without changing the over all look and feel of the game to a player.

There was a knock at the partially opened door, Robinson stared at the diagram in front of him. "Come in."

Jake entered the private lab silently. He sat in the chair opposite Robinson and leaned his elbows over the desk. "I started the appointment process like you asked in the memo on my desk. Everything's at a stand still with the board of directors, though."

Cornelius frowned at this, the board of Todayland decided how much of the tax payer's money went into projects. The rest was up to the individual company. Robinson leaned back in the chair and watched the rain patterns in the window. "Didn't we just do this?"

Jake rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Every six months, they're preparing for Junes budgeting meetings."

"Which means all projects in every developmental company will be put on hold."

His second in command sighed, "Exactly."

Cornelius smirked, still looking out the window. "At least USR will be off our backs for a while."

"Not from what I've heard."

The blond shook his head, finally tearing his gaze away from the window to level Conner with a knowing gaze. "And where would you have heard something?"

Jake shrugged, his face nuetral, "I know a few people."

By now Cornelius was beginning to wonder how often Jake and his son conversed. They both avoided the point of a question like The Plague, his friend continued none the less.

"I do know that a prominent member on the board is very closely related to the higher ups of USR."

"Jake, the board has been corrupt since it was established. Everyone is pulling strings for someone."

"Even you?"

Cornelius frowned, "No, I've never been handed a favor. Anything that has been refused funding I've personally picked up the tab on my own."

Jake stood, walked to the window. The fifteenth floor gave an amazing view of Todayland. "Kudos to you Mr. Robinson, I wondered how we finished half the projects set in front of us."

Cornelius shrugged, "Not about making money. That's what seperates us from USR."

Jake made a sound of agreement, not moving from where he stood. The rain cast moving shadows over his face and clean white shirt. "Oh, Adam's suddenly decided he wants to join the Chargeball team. Seeing Wilbur go to nationals made him think about it again."

Cornelius smirked, "Even after the incident with the cheerleading squad?"

Jake barked out a laugh at that, the first he had laughed in a long time the blond suddenly realized. "No, he's still terrified to see any of the cheerleaders, but he said Wilbur loaned him his old Chargeball glove and he's been practicing. He was going to watch the team practice after school this afternoon."

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Wilbur sat at the end of the bench, "on deck" to use the court next. Adam sat with him, fidgetting with the glove Wilbur had let him use.

"Will, can you-?"

Without listening to the rest of the question Wilbur took the glove from his friend, made a few adjustments and handed it back to him. Adam stared at the glove wide eyed. "How'd you know what I was gunna say?"

Wilbur shrugged, looking back at the court. "I didn't."

Adam continued to look at the glove from every angle, speaking as he did so. He knew that even though it didn't _look_ like Wilbur Robinson was listening to anything the shorter, unpopular, band geek was saying, truth was that Will never missed a word. Adam was one of the few to know that. When the two had first met Adam had expected Robinson to be a snob, he was surprised to find out that the popular rich kids hadn't included the lean raven haired teen in their elite group.

In reality, though, Robinson found them all annoying and incredibly shallow. They had formed a group based on how much money their parents made in a year. That wasn't friendship, it was a way to tear others down. No, friendship was sitting on this bench right now with the kid that was embarrassed to be seen by the cheerleaders. He noticed Adam trying to change a function on the glove and covered the dial with his hand. The brown haired boy smiled at him sheepishly, deciding to change the subject he asked, "Are you ready for exams next week?"

Wilbur sighed, dramatically putting his head in his hands. Everything the boy did seemed to use more energy than it really needed to. Adam found it rather entertaining.

"No! When I get home I'm to tired to do anything! I can't look at that stuff without my eyes going crossed." He frowned, the match in front of them was taking forever, he doubted he'd get back on the court before practice was over. He actually didn't mind. He was exhausted. Thunder cracked and the court lit up as lightning flashed in the distance. Adam jumped, and was incredibly embarrassed when he realized Wilbur hadn't moved at all.

He spoke as if nothing happened. "I think you'll do ok, we could study at my house this weekend if you wanted."

"No thanks." Wilbur declined without thinking. "I think I'm going to sleep all weekend, and when I'm not sleeping I'll be eating. This has been the worst week ever."

"What about your dad? He could help with the math and science I bet."

Wilbur groaned, hanging his head in exaggerated defeat and fatigue. Alright maybe the fatigue wasn't exaggerated.

"You don't want his help?" Adam sat in confused silence as Wilbur pushed himself back to lounge against the bleachers. Now he knew he wouldn't get to play again, practice only had five minutes left if the gym clock was right.

"I freaked out on him this morning." He fidgeted with his glove. "Not even sure why."

"You have been kind of tense lately." Wilbur shot his friend a glare, Adam only shrugged his shoulders. "What? Everyone's stressed out right now."

"You don't look stressed." Wilbur said as he shoved his gear into his duffle bag, yanking the drawstring.

Adam carefully folded his loaned glove, "I don't spend almost half the day here on a regular basis either."

Wilbur paused in putting his headphones into his ears, "Touché."

They stood just inside the gymnasium doors, the rain hadn't stopped. It hadn't let up, even a little. In fact Wilbur was sure it was getting worse. Adam yawned, and Wilbur followed his example before scowling at him in a mocking fashion. "Don't do that, it's contagious."

Adam nodded in agreement, but yawned again. He stared out at the storm blankly, a flash of lightning illuminated them both, he could faintly hear Wilbur counting under his breath.

"One thousand one, one thousand two…" He continued counting until a low rumble started, it carried on for at least thirty seconds. Not the sharp cracks and pops that they had been hearing all day. Wilbur stared up at the clouds, leaning against the cold glass which was incredibly uncomfortable, but it was better than standing upright at the moment. He saw an empty couch out of the corner of his eye and made a beeline for it. Not wanting to be left alone, Adam followed. Taking a seat on an old chair, while Wilbur sprawled across the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, not caring that he was still at school.

Adam spoke over the deafening rain, "Our dads should be here soon."

"Mmm Hmm."

"Are you falling asleep?"

"Mmm Hmm."

A crack of thunder made Adam jump, "Look! The sun's shining!"

"Mmm Hmm."

"Can I have your new Chargeball glove?"

"Nice try."

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Cornelius watched Wilbur trudge out of the gymnasium. He hoped the boy hadn't been waiting alone long. Franny had called and asked him to pick up a few things, causing him to be late in getting his son from practice. Wilbur threw his things in the back and hopped up front as quickly as possible, this rain was really getting old. The inventor spoke cheerfully, "Practice go well?"

Wilbur shrugged, "Alright I guess. All the varsity kids were there today so we didn't get much time on the court."

"Hmmm, it will only get more popular with you guys making it to playoffs."

"Yeah."

He really didn't like how awkward the conversation felt, slowing at the first of many red lights he sighed. "Look Will, I shouldn't have gotten angry with you this morning."

"I shouldn't touch your stuff."

"That's not the point, they're just papers. We can just drop it if you like."

"I do."

After a few moments of silence, the matter seemed settled, so he started over with a new subject. "I heard Adam was at practice." He noticed Wilbur's smirk and couldn't help but smile himself.

Wilbur smiled out the window, "He has a lot to do, couch gave him a list of things to work on for next season."

"But he's got you, he should be in shape in no time."

"Hopefully."

He could still tell Wilbur was just as tired as the night before, if not more so. He cleared his throat and made a suggestion. "You know Will, if you don't have much homework or anything I'll have Carl take dinner to you and you can go to bed as soon as we get home."

Wilbur seemed to like this idea, "I don't have anything, we've just been reviewing for the tests next week." He hunkered down into the seat a little, excited at the prospect of sleep without interruptions. A thought suddenly occurred to him, "How's Adam's Granddad doing? He never talks about it."

Cornelius frowned, "Not well, and Adam's dad isn't doing well either. He's been acting somewhat strange the last week or so."

Wilbur nodded, everyone was dealing with things it seemed. "Stress does weird stuff to people."

His father could only agree with him, "You can say that again."

"Ok, stress does-"

"Wilbur, I said it as a figure of speech."

The dark clouds broke once again in an even heavier torrent of rain as the hover car passed the USR offices on 6th street, glancing at the parking lot Cornelius frowned at the familiar looking hover car parked along the side alley. "Speak of the devil."

He slowed, pulled to the curb and parked. Wilbur sat up, confused as to why they had stopped. They sat in silence, rain pelting the glass dome of the hover car. He glanced across at his dad, unable to hear what his father had just muttered. The rain muffling everything. What his father said next only confused him more.

"Wilbur, I need to talk to someone, can you drive home?"

"What? I can't see in this rain, and it's getting dark! Mom'll kill me!"

Cornelius brushed his protests aside, "We both know you've driven the time machine at night, in the rain. Just drive carefully."

Wilbur quieted at that, looking at his father uncertainly he reached for the keys, climbing across as Cornelius got out of the hover car. His blue shirt soaked instantly.

"Dad?"

Cornelius turned from the spot he was watching in the parking lot. "Yeah Will."

Wilbur hesitated in turning the ignition, his apprehension palpable. "When will you be home?"

Cornelius leaned against the window, thinking he would have stayed in the car had he known Wilbur would make this so difficult. "I'll be right behind you Will, I'm just talking to Jake, he'll give me a ride home." He was surprised at the sudden anxiety in his son's voice. He turned from the door and started to cross the street when he heard Wilbur speak again.

"Dad?"

He didn't say anything this time, just turned back to his son.

"Be careful."

Wilbur started the engine and merged into traffic without saying anything else. Cornelius watched the car till it turned the corner. He found the boy's change in mood rather odd. He supposed, though, that suddenly being thrown the keys and told to drive home while your father stood in in the rain would be slightly unnerving. The boy had nothing to worry about though, he was only talking to Jake. Sighing he crossed the street, sheets of rain soaking him through. His glasses collected water droplets, making it harder to see than it already was. Wilbur was right, it had gotten dark very quickly. Black clouds hung low, street lights were already lit. It was only 6:30.

He paused momentarily, having the distinct feeling of déjà vu. The rain, and chilled wind feeling worryingly familiar. Reaching the sidewalk he turned and looked down a single block. He drove these streets every day but hadn't stood this close to the building in thirty years. He stared at the familiar porch for a moment, the street lights giving the newly refurbished orphanage an eerie glow. Funny that USR would place their headquarters so close to the one place he had loathed with a passion as a child. He shook his head, he had more important things to attend to at the moment.

Without knocking on the car window or asking permission he yanked the passenger door open and slumped into the seat quickly. He snatched the glasses from his nose and dried the lenses on a pant leg. It was hard to look stern when you couldn't see the person in front of you. Replacing them neatly he glared at the man next to him, he was not expecting what he heard next.

"Want some coffee Robinson?"

His jaw dropped in disbelief for a moment before replying, "Jake! What do you think you're doing?"

The man seemed unfazed, "Waiting, she works late evenings. She's at RI in the morning and USR evenings."

Robinson was stunned to say the least. "You've been stalking her Jake? For God sakes you have a family! Your son's Wilbur's age!" He paused, realizing what he'd just said. "Where is Adam anyway?"

Jake looked at him calmly. "I am not stalking, I'm investigating, and Stacey picked Adam up from school today, said she was on her way through. I'm telling you, though, this girl's been hanging around both companies. I see her every morning at RI, she's even there before I am."

Cornelius looked out the front windshield angrily. "I can't stop you can I?"

Jake raised his paper coffee cup to his lips. "No, but you can keep me company. That coffee's for you."

Blue eyes watched the steaming cup for a moment before he reached out to pick it up. "You knew I'd be here?"

Jake smirked at his colleague, "No, but it sounded good didn't it?"

The blond inventor couldn't help but chuckle as he held onto the paper cup, warming his fingers. "Don't suddenly think I'm joining you in your spy work. I'm only staying _here_ because I don't want to be out _there_. It's good it's raining so hard, if anyone could see us in here we _would_ be accused of spying for their plans. Though I can't say they've come out with anything good lately."

Jake laughed at that, "That's only because you're biased. The Father of the Future can think whatever he wants."

Cornelius was never able to reply, while his mind was thinking of a clever come back sudden popping sounds seemed to come from all directions. Time slowed. His senses became dull, and he heard the ear piercing shots before realizing it was gun fire. Lurching forward he ducked his head next to the glove box, using his arms to shield himself from the glass that sprayed down from the windshield. Jake lay forward against the steering wheel, his head rested against the hand holds. Scrapes and scratches littered his forehead and left check. Everything had happened so quickly Cornelius had trouble processing the event. Three final shots rang out and a sudden explosion of pain hit him in the left arm. He grit his teeth and fought the urge to yell out. He heard heavy boots running down the rain soaked alley and pulled himself up high enough to see a silhouette running under the street light.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Rain fell through the holes of Jakes windshield. The blond inventor was suddenly very tired, he rested his head against the glove box of the hover car. His son's words echoed in his head.

"When will you be home?"

He heard the sirens coming closer.

"I'm right behind you Will"

He closed his eyes, and just out of his reach sat Wilbur in the driver's seat.

"Dad?"

Watching him anxiously, hesitating to drive away.

"Be careful."


	3. Aftermath

**Author Note: Once again thanks to Reidluver and LaLaCat1! Updates may start to slow down, I've hit a brick wall with writing. This won't be abandoned though I promise! ****Let me know what you think!!**

This was definitely not his bed. He could tell that without opening his eyes. Making an effort to sit up, he was suddenly reminded of what had happened. Heat shot up his left arm and into the shoulder. Gently lowering himself against the pillows he waited for the pain to subside. Voices drifted through the opened doorway and he strained to hear anyone he may recognize. Opening his eyes he cursed softly, he hated being without his glasses. He glanced at the tables on either side of him and was disappointed when he didn't find them. He turned back to the door as the doctor came in, or who he thought would be the doctor considering he could barely see the man.

"Oh you're awake. I'm Dr. Matthews, I have to say you are one lucky man Mr. Robinson. The bullet didn't miss your brachial artery by much. Not to worry, though, everything looks good, no bone only some soft tissues. It should patch up nicely." He spoke while inspecting the inventor's arm, satisfied with the look of the stitches, and no infection had set in.

He sat back on the stool next to the bed, "Chief Stone is coming for a statement when you're ready. Do you have any idea who would do this?"

Cornelius shook his head, regretting it afterwards, "No, everything happened so fast. Jake and I were-" His expression became worried, "What happened to Jake?"

Dr. Matthews spoke quietly, brushing a hand through short dusty brown hair. Robinson noted he had great bed side manner.

"He's hangin' in there. We'll need to perform surgery but would like to wait till he's a bit more stable. He's scheduled for tomorrow morning."

Robinson remained silent after this revelation, Matthews took his cue and quietly set the stool aside, shutting the door behind him as he left the room. Robinson closed his eyes and ran his good hand through blond hair. Jake didn't deserve this, his family didn't need another crisis to deal with. He suddenly thought of his own family. Did they know? Were they here? He wanted out of this room, wanted answers, wanted to know who did this, wanted to see his family. He looked back at the stand to his right and reached out, feeling for his glasses rather than looking. He scowled to himself when he heard them clatter to the floor.

"Let me get them for you, just don't fall out of the bed."

Luckily for Robinson, Todayland's chief of police had just opened the door and witnessed the fall of the famous round glasses. He handed them to his friend, then threw the blue 'Todayland Police Department' baseball cap onto a table and pulled out the stool Dr. Matthews had just put away. He was tall, age showing through at the corners of blue eyes. He was clean cut, a neat mustache and dark hair graying just above his ears. He had a surprisingly warm smile considering his profession, and he had an insanely remarkable talent for using it in situations such as this.

"I know you probably don't want to do this but it can't wait till tomorrow. I need to get your official statement Cornelius."

His movements were slow and measured, something the injured man appreciated at the moment. Chief Stone pulled a small note pad and pen out of the inside breast pocket of his jacket and waited patiently. Cornelius was a genius, Stone didn't need to explain the process to the man.

The blond sighed, "It was dark. We were in his hover car, just talking and before I knew it I had a bullet in my arm and woke up here. I did see the shooter leaving the scene, though I didn't see their face."

Chief Stone frowned, "You were in his hover car?"

"Yes."

"Where was yours?"

"Wilbur drove it home."

Stone hesitated in writing on the next page. "Why was the car in front of USR?"

At this Cornelius heaved a sigh, "Jake thinks something's going on."

"So the two of you were holding a stake out?" He was doubtful but he knew the other investigators would question him.

Robinson shook his head, "Jake hasn't been himself lately, I was attempting to get him to understand that."

"And that's when the firing started?"

"Mmm Hmm."

Stone put the stool back in its original place, grabbed his hat and shook the inventor's hand.

"Doc told me all you needed was a sling." He motioned to the contraption holding the injured arm in place. "They were getting your discharge orders together, you'll be home before the night's over."

Cornelius smiled slightly, "That's great, what time is it?"

The Police Chief looked at his watch. "Going on 1:00."

"Where's my family?"

"Almost everyone was sent home after the doctors saw you were stable. Your parents are here though, Franny and Wilbur too."

Cornelius shook his head, his family had been sitting in an ER waiting room for six hours? He knew how awful communication was in a hospital, his family probably hadn't heard anything other than the word 'stable' and were left wondering what was going on.

"I need to see them."

"Woah, Robinson, you should probably stay in bed."

Robinson leveled the man with a gaze. "I need to see my family Jess."

Chief Stone quieted his protests, "Alright, alright. Let's just take it easy though." He offered to help Robinson stand, which was hastily refused.

"I'll be fine. Just show me to the waiting room."

He could see his family long before they could see him. His mother sat with what appeared to be a crossword puzzle book, while his father flagged down any staff that walked through the spacious blank room. He never really used their first names anymore he suddenly realized. They were not 'Lucille and Bud' to him, they were 'Mom and Dad' and the fact that they had sat there for hours only proved that. Looking at either of them right now no one would ever know how incredibly quirky they were. Lucille was sitting quietly, studying her own handwriting contained in little squares, and Bud stood gravely in front of a nurse, giving her his full undivided attention, Cornelius doubted he had ever seen that before.

He shifted his gaze, walking slowly. His own steps causing jolts of electricity to shoot through his arm. The dimmed hallway he stood in allowed patients to see into the waiting room, but did not allow the public to see through to his side. He saw Franny seated next to his mother, staring at the floor as if it would reveal something to her if she looked at it long enough. He stopped and watched her through the windows. When she finally looked up blue eyes searched brown, she stared right at him without knowing he was there. Her hair had fallen out of its perfect styling and feathered around her ears in a way he found to be rather flattering. Her dress was somewhat rumpled from sitting in the rigid hospital chair for so long, but he thought she was stunning. He frowned at her unusual taut composer and wondered if there was a special manufacturer who specialized in making the most uncomfortable furniture specifically for hospital waiting rooms. He studied her face again, she'd been crying.

Next to her sat Wilbur. He felt his gut wrench when he saw his son. The boy's eyes were glued to the hand held game player he'd gotten for his birthday two months ago. One foot was tucked under him and Cornelius could only imagine how often he'd gotten up to move around. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was sure he'd never seen the boy so serious before. He grit his teeth when he remembered promising Wilbur he wouldn't have to do anything once he got home. His mood sunk even lower when he watched Wilbur lean towards Adam, showing him something on the screen. Both boys looked awful, and he hated the person who caused it. He'd never truly hated anyone in his life, not even his true mother, but he hated whoever was responsible for this. Not for his own physical pain, but the emotional stress it placed on those he loved, and the fact that his friend was lying in a hospital bed waiting for surgery.

Stone waited for him in the doorway. He'd dealt with quite a few cases like this and was good with the people involved. He'd learned patience in his line of work. It helped that he knew Robinson so well also, the two had known each other since he had been elected Chief of police. He'd worked personally with the inventor on learning the security system of RI, considering it was unique to the company and used by no one else. He was brought out of his musings when Cornelius moved past him, slowly and cautiously. The arm must have really been a detriment, he'd seen the man brush off scrapes and bruises that would knock a rookie out of training for a week. He watched the reunion through the glass, he didn't need to be in there right now.

Cornelius opened the door slowly to meet eyes with his father first. Bud smiled silently at him and hugged him fiercely. Lucille had thrown her crossword book down and stood on tip toe to hug his neck, though, he still had to kneel a bit to allow her embrace. Franny was next, she wiped her eyes hastily and launched herself at him. He winced at the pain it caused and she hastily withdrew, tears filling her eyes as she uttered apologies. He put a single finger to her lips and shook his head, kissing her forehead. She wrapped her arms around his chest and just stood there, feeling his heart beat against her ear. Finding comfort in that simple yet powerful little motion.

When she finally released him he looked for his son, slightly disappointed that Wilbur wasn't right there. He looked to where Wilbur had been sitting and saw that he had only stood up. The game player hung limply in his hand, headphones still stuck in his ears, but his eyes were wide and questioning. They just stared at each other for a moment, Cornelius reading the fear and uncertainty written across the boys features. He'd never seen Wilbur like this, not even when he'd been faced with his own mortality. It was just one more thing for him to hate about these unnamed attackers, how dare they cause his brash and confident son to become so anxious and wary.

Perceptive to his son's apprehension he gave a slight nod in understanding, more of a simple jerk of his head than anything. Almost indiscernible to anyone else there, but it was enough. Wilbur yanked the headphones out of his ears, no matter how much it hurt and threw the gaming device on the chair behind him. He practically ran to where his father stood and crashed into him, not caring that the rest of his family or his friend's family were right there. Cornelius hugged his son as well as he could with one arm. When he tried to pull back Wilbur refused to release him, the thirteen year old had buried his face in his father's shirt. He'd been up almost twenty hours straight now, been pushed to his limit's the past week and sitting in a hospital was the final straw. He finally pulled away, eyes red and puffy. Fatigue was taking over now that he _physically _saw that his father was alright. He smiled faintly and whispered.

"You didn't listen, I told you to be careful."

His father smiled, holding back tears. Cornelius laid his right palm against his son's cheek. Needing to know he was alright, whole, unharmed, because if Wilbur hadn't listened, had stayed with him- No, God no he couldn't think like that. The fact was for once in his life Wilbur _had_ listened and he would never have to deal with the horrible thoughts that raced through his head as he studied the face in front of him. Wilbur looked at him hopefully, his voice was still a whisper. Cornelius had never heard him so quiet.

"How's Adam's dad?"

The inventor cleared his throat, surprised that even that simple motion caused intense pain. "He's resting, he has surgery tomorrow morning."

Wilbur's eyes widened and without thinking he looked over his shoulder at Adam. The motion must have meant enough to the other boy, he turned to his own mother who had been speaking with a nurse. Wilbur felt a knot form in his throat as Adam's mother began to cry, he turned back to his family.

"Why?"

Franny moved back to the hospital chairs, the rest of them following. Knowing her husband was alright had helped her gain her composure back. Cornelius had always loved how she could take charge in the worst situations. She took her son's hand, much like the night before when she had asked about Frankie. Though this time there was no teasing or fooling around, only comfort and stability within the little group.

"No one knows, we just have to be careful. There's an investigation going as we speak."

Wilbur shook his head, "But if someone was after Robinson Industries don't you think they would have done something sooner? I mean why now?"

"That is an excellent question."

Wilbur didn't _want_ to let that slip, no one used his lines. The problem was, though, that his mind was to tired to come up with something catchy to throw back at his dad. He only wrinkled his nose at him, showing his apparent disapproval.

Cornelius only smiled, "You're right though, why wait until now? The company is established, we're actually going to be slowed down with the boards budget meeting coming up."

Franny hugged her husband again, "I don't know, we'll lay low for a while, I have no concerts and school will be out for the summer soon." She looked at Lucille and Bud, who had gone back to their peculiar selves now that they knew their son was alright. They were currently searching for Bud's teeth, which had somehow gone missing between the seating area and the water fountain. Franny smiled up at her husband, "Well Mr. Fix it, when can we get out of here?"

"You all could have left sooner had he stayed in his room."

Dr. Matthews stood in the doorway with Chief Stone. He had a good humored smirk on his face.

"Stone went back to the room and let me know you'd decided to leave. We had almost started a full man hunt until he showed up." Before anyone could get a word in he brought a clip board forward and began to address Franny.

"These are his discharge orders, I've written a prescription that can be filled tomorrow morning. They're very strong so read the instructions I've planned out carefully when you get home."

He pulled a card out from the pile of papers, "This is my personal number, I'll stay with you until he's given a clean bill of health, any problems don't hesitate to call that number. Any time of day."

He shook his head at what he was about to say next,"Because of the pain killer we had him on, and how much he received there can be no drinking for the rest of the night." He smiled at the face Robinson made.

"Legally I must say it to every patient that comes through, I don't expect anyone to go home and pound a few out after a saline drip. You'll get home and pass out, believe me."

He handed the clip board and pen to Franny, who signed her name on every designated line in her neat flowing script. She was given a copy of each and a bill to be put in the RI insurance books. Lucille and Bud, having found his teeth, brought the hover car around to the ER exit doors and waited for the rest of the family as loose ends were tied up inside.

Franny went back into the waiting rooms where Jake's wife and son still sat. She hugged her friend, speaking in a quiet whisper.

"You're welcome to stay with us tonight, we have extra rooms."

Stacey smiled at her friend but shook her head faintly. "I appreciate it Fran, but I can't leave. They just told me he's up and asking to see us."

Franny nodded, her eyes tearing up again, "Alright, tell him we're thinking about him. We're here for you guys, if you need anything."

Stacey broke at that point, she threw her arms around her friend's neck and sobbed. Franny held herself in check, comforting the best way she knew how.

"It'll be ok hun, just watch. Again, if you need anything let me know."

Wiping her eyes, Stacey nodded. "I will, and thank you Fran."

"It's no problem."

Adam sat stiffly in a chair some distance from his mother. Seeing her so upset unnerved him and made the scenario in his mind much worse. He stared at his own game player blankly until he felt a familiar presence standing in front of him. He looked up to see Wilbur's tired bloodshot eyes staring back.

"Here." Wilbur held out his own game player.

Adam stared at him blankly, "What? Wilbur I have my own."

"And the battery's almost dead, what are you going to do when it is?" Adam shrugged.

"Take it."

"Will, we have the same player, your's will die on me too."

Wilbur shook his head, "No, my dad fixed some stuff up for me as part of my birthday gift, it has a three day battery life. I just charged it this morning."

Adam took the player hesitantly, "Thanks Will, but I don't know how to repay you."

"Just don't beat my high score." The raven teen smiled, trying to make the situation lighter. Even though both of them had felt the underlying conversation. The game player was two meanings at once. One, keep your mind off of it and stay occupied. Two, I'll be here when you need it.

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They piled into the hover car, barely fitting and very glad that the drive wasn't long. For as tired as they all were nerves were still very much on alert. Adrenaline was just beginning to wear off but not soon enough. Franny drove, which was a nightmare to all of them in itself. Except for perhaps Cornelius who was beginning to feel the effects of the saline and was frequently awakening to tell the others of the wonderful dream he'd just had about peanut butter with Ritz crackers. Wilbur found this hilarious, though it was more from sheer exhaustion than actual humor. He'd watch from the middle seat, between his parents in the front and grandparents in the back, as his father's head would begin to fall forward. He waited expectantly for it to snap back and hear of some great new dream or epiphany his father had just had. He even tried guessing what it would be about the next time.

Franny didn't find this funny though, tired and at her wits end after spending the evening in the ER she was not thrilled with driving while trying to get Wilbur's snickering under control. He didn't find his father's injury funny, no, it scared him to no end. Seeing that he was alright though eased Wilbur's mind, and it seemed that the pent up anxiety of the evening was being let out in a rather odd fashion. It was nervous, relieved, and exhausted giggling all rolled into one.

As quickly as it started though Wilbur became completely silent. The car's humming was the only sound. Fatigue had won the day and everything became still. They pulled into the garage and everyone piled out carefully. Franny and Bud helped Cornelius out of the hover craft, and had Wilbur buzz Carl down to help get him into the house.

Someone just off a saline drip is very hard to maneuver, this was learned very quickly. In 2037 it's designed to kill pain quickly without leaving the patient drowsy until some time later. Obviously the timing still needed some work. Carl was soon in the garage, though, and Wilbur made the observation that he never seemed to land gracefully from a travel tube. He always arrived in a jumble of legs and arms that just happened to have a head.

The travel tubes were ruled out immediately, it seemed rather unsafe when any of them thought of it. They made their way slowly through the corridor, Franny let her husband lean on her.

"Are you hungry at all sweetheart? We saved your plate in the kitchen."

The inventor stopped and looked at her, smiling groggily, "No, just sleep. Thank you though."

She smiled and continued down the hallway towards their room. "Of course hun."

Though he wasn't laughing anymore, Wilbur had a hard time watching his father without at least smiling. It was interesting to see the precise, measured, and direct Cornelius Robinson to suddenly have no motor skills and move with the speed of a turtle. Carl looked to him for some sort of explanation to which he only shook his head, whispering.

"I'll explain later."

Cornelius sat on the edge of the bed heavily, kicking his shoes off with the grace of a zumzat. Wilbur kissed his mom goodnight and hugged his father's neck, sobering again when he realized why they were doing all of this to begin with. Franny smiled warmly at her son while her husband inched closer and closer to sleep. She ran one of her hands through his black hair. The fact that he didn't protest revealed to her just how tired and worked up he was.

"He'll be ok, he just needs sleep."

"You're not scared?"

"Of course I'm scared love, but we can't let our fears cloud our judgment. He'll be alright, we all will. Just have faith."

She cupped his chin in her palm and ran a thumb along his cheekbone. She hadn't done that since he was at least eight. "You can stay home tomorrow, I'll call the school in the morning."

Wilbur looked back to where his dad had stretched out on the bed, already sleeping peacefully. Franny smiled encouragingly. Even as she watched her son's eyes begin to tear.

"See? He won't be getting up for a while, why don't you go to bed too?"

His answer was a hoarse whisper, "I don't think I can."

She kissed his forehead and pulled him into a hug. "Just try, he'd probably be irritated if he knew how much you were worrying."

She rubbed his back soothingly, letting him lean against her. She smiled slyly, "Carl's probably having a panic attack right now, why don't you go tell him everything's ok?"

"Alright."

She kissed him again, "Goodnight sweetheart."

"Goodnight mom." He looked back at his father's sleeping figure as he walked out of the room.

He made his way to his own room slowly. He knew his dad would be alright but his mind was running in circles and not allowing him to calm down. Carl was pacing his room when he entered, "Hey little buddy, you ok? Bud told me what happened."

Wilbur sighed, "I'm ok I guess, I just hope Adam's family will be alright."

He spoke as he went up the stairs to the top level, Carl following beside him silently. He took his shoes off and crawled into bed, school clothes and all. He didn't mind it much last night, but he _really_ didn't care now. Carl shut the lights off and turned back towards the stairs. He stopped short when he heard Wilbur's voice coming from the bed.

"Carl?"

"Yeah little buddy?"

"Can you stay here tonight?"

He turned slowly, not really surprised at what he heard. He hadn't stayed in Wilbur's room for at least three years now. The days events changed things though.

"Of course Wilbur, I'm not going anywhere."

A drowsy voice replied in the dark. "Thanks Carl."

Carl moved one of the over sized chairs next to the head of the bed. Getting as comfortable as possible he whispered.

"Anytime kiddo."

There was no response after that.


	4. Investigations Begin

**Thank you so much to everyone who has left such wonderful reviews! It's because of all of you guys that i'm uploading two chapters at once! XD Next chapter we're finally going to get a_ look at_ some of the intrigue surrounding Wilbur for all of you who have been waiting patiantly Thanks again! Enjoy!  
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He kept his eyes closed, he hadn't been this comfortable in a long time. Stretching languidly, he could tell the sun was shining into his room though closed eyes. Was it Saturday? What was he still doing in bed? What was that sound? The radio began to play behind his head. Listening to see what time it was he was disappointed when he only heard music. He opened his eyes and looked at the LED clock upside down. "Oh my God!"

He shot out of the bed and tripped over the shoes he had discarded the night before. Luckily for him Carl never slept and had opened his eyes when he'd heard the boy yell out. Extending one arm fully he caught the boy around the stomach and catapulted him back to the bed. It would have been a long and painful fall down those steps.

Wilbur stared at him wide eyed, "Why didn't anyone wake me up Carl, it's 12:30!"

"You kind of looked like you needed it. You finally went to bed at two am Wilbur."

The teen stared at him, suddenly remembering everything that had taken place the night before. Without a word he sprang from where he sat and raced down the stairs, not stopping until he came to the living room. The entire family sat gathered on the colorful furniture, listening to Cornelius speak with Chief Stone. Wilbur noticed another officer taking notes, he didn't recognize the man. Franny noticed her son and motioned for him to sit with her. He moved slowly across the room feeling rather surreal. He'd seen this happen in the movies all the time, but had never thought it would ever happen to him.

His father was much more alert than he had expected him to be. Cornelius looked at Stone with a determined and calculating expression, listening carefully to each question Stone asked.

"This girl Jake was talking about, what did she look like?"

"I've never seen her, I wouldn't even know what color her hair was."

"Do you have reason to believe someone is after you?"

"I've never known anyone openly out to get RI, even Hughes wouldn't stoop that low."

Chief Stone eyed the inventor seriously. He nodded to the man with him, who jotted some quick notes in his notepad.

Cornelius frowned, "You think he did it? We may not get along but I don't think he would risk his company."

"We got a log of all calls in and out of RI in the past week, Hughes called your office only days ago correct?"

"He did."

"We've interviewed every contact. He was the only one to be defensive, told us we needed a warrant and that he wouldn't speak without a lawyer."

Cornelius frowned, putting pieces of the puzzle together in his head. It seemed to simple. "That's it? Because he wants to be difficult you'll concentrate only on him? I saw the shooter."

The younger officer sat forward, looking nervous, "You said you didn't see their face."

Cornelius scowled, "It wasn't him, the shooter was too short."

Stone sighed, "He's the only lead we have at the moment, we'll have someone check it out. But believe me Robinson I'm doing everything I can right now."

Wilbur soon found he wasn't interested in the conversation, he didn't want to even think about anyone out to hurt his dad. He left the family room and it's occupants to go to the kitchen, stomach growling all the way. He hadn't eaten the night before, too nervous to stomach anything. He smiled at the plate left on the warming tray for him. His mom had made his favorite, french toast with powdered sugar. Turning to the kitchen bar he nearly dropped the plate when he realized someone was standing in the room. He glared at the intruder, "You're lucky I didn't drop this."

Officer Taylor only nodded, he was a rookie. Shadowing Stone was all he had done since joining the force and this was the first real case he'd been a part of. He watched silently as the teen set the plate down and began hounding the food in front of him, pausing only to speak now and then.

"You don't have to stand, I hear a chair will hold you in an upright position without letting you fall."

Taylor rolled his eyes, he'd heard about this kid. He took the invitation for what it was worth and sat adjacent to the teen. Resting his elbows easily on the counter top. He wasn't sure whether he should have been annoyed or amused. This Robinson boy was interesting to say the least.

He thought he'd try to get some more information. "So would you have any idea who would want to do something like this?"

Wilbur scowled over his plate, "No. I can't think of anyone out there who hates my family that much. No one would have the technology to do anything if it weren't for my dad."

He was slightly surprised at how defensive the boy was, it was obvious the temper came from his father. The answer was almost identical to what he'd been hearing all morning. Wilbur pushed the plate to the side and spun his seat back and forth, eyeing the rookie curiously.

"How long have you been doing this?"

Taylor sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, "Obviously not long enough."

"I can tell."

The man in uniform quirked an eyebrow, "How?"

"You're really bad at it."

He shot a look of annoyance at the boy as he took his plate to the dishwasher. A thirteen year old was going to tell him how to do his job?

"Bad? I just finished at the head of my class."

The teen turned and gave him a good condescending look. The kind that said c'mon we both know that's not true. Taylor couldn't believe he was arguing with this kid.

Wilbur slid onto the seat again smoothly, "Uh huh, you finished top of your class but you can't ask anything other than what Stone just asked my dad?" The kid smirked at the face Taylor made and continued, "Shouldn't you ask some other questions?"

By now Taylor was annoyed but slightly intrigued by the teen sitting in front of him. He narrowed his eyes challengingly. "Such as?" His intrigue turned into full annoyance when Wilbur fired back an answer.

"Such as, have I noticed anything in the past days or weeks that would be suspicious now that my dad's arm is in a sling and my friend's dad is currently in the OR."

Taylor glared at him a moment, he felt like an idiot. His first case and he'd practically forgotten everything he'd learned in his courses. So he asked the obvious.

"Well did you?"

"No."

He threw his hands in the air, all that and they were still at square one. Wilbur smirked before sliding off the stool. "You're welcome."

"For what?"

"Doing your job for you."

He watched the boy leave silently, fuming to himself. Who did he think he was anyway? Stone entered the kitchen and smiled knowingly.

"Kid show you up huh?"

The rookie officer felt his jaw drop, "What? We were just talking."

"Not from what I heard, c'mon we have people to talk to."

Once the officers were shown out of the Robinson home Cornelius sat contemplating what Stone had said. He spoke out loud, a trait he'd picked up after working years alone in the lab. It helped him sort his thoughts and place them back in order.

"Hughes is an arrogant fool, but I highly doubt he would actually do something like this. There's too much at stake for him, too much to lose."

Franny watched him from where she was seated, still worn from the previous night. "What will we do in the mean time? With the investigation I mean."

Cornelius sighed and hunkered further into the chair he occupied, these pain meds they had him on were killer.

"Go on with our lives as usual."

"What? The attacker is still out there! We can't-"

Cornelius shook his head, cutting her off, "We can and we will, if we sit home and decide to never show our faces again then they've won Fran. Yes we'll lay low a while, but we can not give them the satisfaction of winning."

Franny covered her mouth with a shaky hand, leaning back in the chair as her eyes began to tear. As painful as it was, her husband moved to sit beside her and put his good arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, it's going to be alright. With the activity going on right now it's unlikely they'll try again. Everyone is on the look out." He kissed her temple, allowing her to lean against his good side.

Franny sighed and dried her eyes, "I've never worried about you and your work before."

Her husband hugged her closer, "Well no one has ever come at me with a gun either."

"I can't imagine how Stacey feels."

Cornelius nodded in agreement. They had been told Jake's surgery had gone well, but he was still not stable enough to be released.

His wife continued in a shaky voice. "What about Wilbur's tournament? I don't want him out of the house longer than necessary."

"He'll be fine. The courts are crowded during practices."

She frowned, not particularly satisfied, "Speaking of which, where is our son? I want to make sure he understands I don't want him leaving the house.

Cornelius understood his wife's concern, that she was going to become very protective. He also knew Wilbur well enough to know the boy would not just decide to go gallivanting while the family was in their current situation. He frowned at his wife but spoke reassuringly. "I highly doubt he's going to go roam Todayland any time soon, don't worry, I'm fairly sure I know where he is."

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He'd knocked twice on the door. When no reply was forth coming he opened it slightly and looked straight to the second level windows. He wasn't disappointed when the window next to the boys bed was open. Dark blue curtains fluttered slightly and bright sunshine filtered through into the empty room.

He made the stairs fairly easily to his surprise. Leaning his good arm against the open window sill he poked his head out into the warm spring air.

"Thought I'd find you here."

His son looked up in surprise, "How'd you know I was up here?"

The blond found a more comfortable position, though remained indoors. "I seem to remember a conversation that took place, oh about thirty years ago. Something about how much you liked this spot."

Wilbur quirked an eyebrow, looking from his dad out to the green lawns, then back to the man in the window. "That's just weird, you shouldn't do that."

It was his father's turn to look miffed, "Do what? Remember anything you tell me? You have to remember that I'm Lewis."

His son shrugged, "You don't seem the same, though. Here you're my dad, and there you're-"

"Lewis." His father said once again. He studied his son silently a moment before continuing. "I know you Will, until this is all settled I don't want you using the time machine." He wasn't surprised at the response.

"But dad I can tell-"

"No, if you go back and tell me I know I'll try to prevent it. What if that outcome is worse than this Will? Trying to change events is much different than sitting with me while I work on Carl."

The teen crossed his arms, not happy with the conversation. He became nervous when a thought suddenly came to him. "What about the games? Mom probably wants to lock me in my room doesn't she?"

Cornelius actually laughed at that, somehow even in the most serious of situations his son could create humor without trying or even realizing that what he was saying was funny. "I told her the games will be safe. There will be enough people around that another attempt at all this would be suicide."

"Hmph."

"It'll be ok Will."

"So says the man in the sling."

He rubbed the shoulder in question and tested his movement, deciding immediately that it was a bad idea. He grimaced slightly, but turned and smiled ruefully at the look Wilbur gave him. "Believe me Will, everything's going to be fine."

He knew his son was smarter than that though. Brown eyes betrayed a calm expression. He feigned a cool composure well but wary eyes said everything. Wilbur's voice was surprisingly low and relaxed when he spoke.

"I want to believe you."

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He'd been sitting on the cell phone for way to long. His shoulder ached and he was extremely tired, but for the past hour and a half he had been on the phone with the leading member of the board of Todayland.

"Yes I understand that, but you need to understand that I am currently stuck at home. No I can not send Jake Conner do you watch the news at all? Turn your television on!"

He had never liked dealing with anyone on the board, especially this man. Greg Moyer made it his personal job to create headaches for any company that used funding in projects of any kind. Conversations had never ended well between the two, Jake had always been the mediator. With the second in command of RI still in the hospital Robinson was stuck explaining that he and his colleagues would not be present at the biannual conference. Obviously this man didn't have a television, or even talk to anyone of the outside world for that matter.

"Why are we unable to attend? Are you serious? My arm is in a sling and Jake is in the hospital! Fine, we will send someone, but I want transcripts of everything. Anyone coughs, sneezes or even scratches their nose I want to know about it."

Wilbur sat on the couch across from his father listening to one end of the conversation. He found the contrast between Lewis and Cornelius interesting, it was hard to imagine Lewis demanding anything. Cornelius on the other hand could humble anyone with a simple glance and the tone of his voice. He'd been on the wrong end of that a few times, Lewis could never pull it off.

The cell phone bouncing off the seat next to him pulled him from his thoughts. He picked it up and put it to his ear, smiling across at his dad when he could hear Greg Moyer still on the other end. He smirked and leaned back against the arm of the couch, putting an arm behind his head he looked up at the ceiling lazily. "I'm sorry Mr. Moyer but your connection with Mr. Robinson has been lost, but if you would like I can take a message for you and be sure that he receives it promptly."

Cornelius rested his head against the back of the couch, finding his son's response to Greg interesting. He closed his eyes and listened quietly.

"Wait, slow down Mr. Moyer I can't write that fast. How do you spell that? Alright I got it, of course sir I'll get this to Mr. Robinson right away. Bye."

The cell phone shut with a snap and he tossed it back to the other couch, Cornelius opened his eyes and stared at his son. "You are such a little smart aleck you know that?"

Wilbur shrugged and smiled, "Yeah, I try."

"Sometimes I think you try to hard."

Wilbur smirked at his father as he stood and began to make his way to the dinning room. "Seriously, you can never try to hard."

Cornelius leaned his head back again and spoke to the ceiling. "Where are you going?"

Wilbur's response was heard faintly through the hallway. "Mom's going to visit Adam's mom, I was going to see how he was doing."

His son reappeared with a backpack over his shoulder and books in his hand. "We were going to catch up on the work we missed."

His father watched him pass wide eyed, "Will, I'm pretty sure your teachers are understanding and will allow you to take some time off."

"What else is there to do? Sit and wonder what's going on at the hospital?"

Cornelius went silent at that, these kids were thirteen and being forced to think like adults. He merely nodded and watched as Wilbur went out the front door.

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Adam looked terrible, they walked silently down the sidewalk. Both of their mothers had told them to stay in sight, they were only allowed to walk up and down the street in front of Adam's house.

Though he looked worse, Adam was better than the night before. "They're letting him come home today. He can't go to work for a while though."

Wilbur smiled, "My dad isn't working either, at least he's coherent though. You're in for it when your dad comes home."

"So I've heard."

They continued down the street in silence, getting back to their normal selves slowly now that both fathers were going to be alright. They joked back and forth about regular teenage things, Wilbur pointing out for the millionth time why he refused to ever use the transport bubbles RI had invented years ago.

He watched the people floating high over their heads. "Seriously, if that thing decides to pop randomly, it will be like that really old Sci Fi we watched in science class, people just falling from the sky."

Adam rolled his eyes, "Do you ever think about anything normal? Seriously Will, don't say things like that when my mom has me take a bubble to school everyday."

"I'm just warning you."

They stopped and stood at the corner of the street, normally they wouldn't listen to their mother's instructions. Today they felt differently though. Adam stared at one of the houses across from them.

"That's Miss Milton's house, I wonder how she's doing."

Wilbur glanced at his friend awkwardly, "Why?"

"She's always so sad, she's really very nice, but there always seems to be something wrong. My mom had me take some things to her a few weeks ago because she was sick. She doesn't have any family in the area that could take care of her."

The front door opened and a woman looking to be in her mid thirties took a seat on the swinging bench on the front porch. From where they stood they couldn't make out her features, just that she wore a navy blue t-shirt and shorts. She propped her bare feet up on the end of the swing and pulled out a book.

Wilbur shrugged, "I've never seen her, but she doesn't look sad to me."

Adam rolled his eyes, "Of course she doesn't, we're over fifty yards away genius."

"Genius huh? I thought that was my dad."

Adam rolled his eyes again and huffed as he followed his friend back in the direction they came.


	5. Kelly Milton

**Thanks again to everyone! Now I may slow down, the last month of school has me scrambling to get things done!  
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Kelly Milton was a lonely woman. This fact was quite a surprise to anyone who looked at her. Dark auburn hair framed royal blue eyes, with natural curls other women were rather envious of. Tall and slim she carried the sporty soccer mom look, though, there was no child to go with that look. She sat on the porch of her empty and spacious town home. She was outside often, living alone didn't mean she wanted to be alone. Sitting outside gave her the feeling of being part of something, especially when she observed people and families going about their daily business. She may not know them personally, but it gave her a sense of belonging. Even if they didn't know who she was.

She could hear chatter from down the street, and she smiled slightly to herself without looking up from her book. Two boys it must have been. In the year she had been watching her neighbors she had become very good at observing without being noticed. She glanced up quickly as she turned the page. She recognized the shorter boy, he lived only down the street. He and his father had passed her house every night the previous summer, and the boy had brought her essentials a few weeks ago when she had been ill.

The other boy she didn't recognize, though she had a slight feeling that she should have. She couldn't get a clear view of either of them from the angle she sat at. She didn't want to make it known she was watching them either. She knew they must have been talking about her. She wasn't bothered, though, people could say whatever they wanted. The voices that had carried over the square began to drift out of her range, she looked up to see them round the corner. Going back from where they had come.

She sighed, closing her book. Checking her watch she realized it was time for work. She let her book down and went inside to change. A friend of hers had given her the odd job here and there to help her get out of the house. What most people never realized was that Kelley was a widow, all of her finances were taken care of through her deceased husbands life insurance policy. She appreciated the help being offered to her, but could not get back into anything even remotely resembling a normal life. Not after she had lost her family, she had expected to be living her dream right now. Not living alone in a two bedroom house she could not part with, even though she wanted to very much. She donned the company shirt she had been given and headed out the door, leaving the book face down on the swinging bench.

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Chief Stone fumed in the lobby of USR. Standing at the front desk he made this fact very clear. "What do you mean I can not see Mr. Hughes? I would think chief of police would take precedent over a meeting with the board!"

The receptionist tried her best to keep the man calm, but it was too late for that. "Sir, if you could-"

"No, I will not wait. I have a case of attempted murder on my hands. Do you understand what that means?"

The girl behind the desk fell silent, watching the man in front of her dumbfounded. Her only movement was a flicker of recognition as a USR employee walked through the doors to pick up her time card at the desk.

The newcomer glanced awkwardly between the two before inching away from Stone. His anger was obvious. Without another word he left the lobby and headed toward Hughes' main office. No one said no to Chief Stone, ever.

He had expected the door to be locked, so he was rather surprised when the doors flew open, he stormed into the room and pointed a finger at the head of USR.

"No one, and I don't care who you may be, but _no one_ treats a case of this magnitude with indifference."

Hughes leaned back in his oversized office chair, "Chief Stone, I assure you sir, this is not indifference. I am not involved with RI, my company goes on with it's business no matter what goes on in the outside world."

He had never liked Hughes, he was smug and arrogant and did whatever he felt like doing. The Chief was biased though, Cornelius Robinson had done more for the people of Todayland, which is really what Stone cared about. He suddenly realized Hughes was not the only other person in the spacious conference room, not as grand as those at RI but still rather impressive. Greg Moyer sat with his arms crossed watching the exchange.

Stone looked at them knowingly, "So this is the budget meeting? You're missing a few people aren't you?"

Moyer sat forward, his arrogant tone grating on Stone's already frazzled nerves. "This is not a budget meeting Mr. Stone, in case you hadn't previously been informed Mr. Hughes here is my brother in law and we are planning a surprise party for my daughter. She would be his niece if you couldn't make the connection."

Stone brushed the insult aside, two could play at this game. "Oh, well then my apologies. You wouldn't mind then if I asked both of you a few questions then would you?"

Before either of the businessmen could respond he made himself at home in a seat at the opposite end of the table. Propping his muddy work boots on the mahogany tabletop, much to the annoyance of the two in front of him. He smiled smugly, oh yes, he could play their game.

"Where were you both at 6:30 last night?"

Hughes answered first, "Here, I don't leave until 8:00 most nights. I heard the shots outside and they put us on lockdown"

"Got any witnesses?"

Hughes shrugged, "Of course, ask any of the night staff."

Stone nodded, "Care if I look through your email?"

Hughes shook his head, "They're classified, you'll need a warrant for that."

"That's easy to do"

He turned his attention to Moyer, "How about you birthday planner?"

Moyer shrugged, "I went out for some things for the wife, she's expecting. I called her from the store to make sure I had gotten the right ice cream, she'll attest to that. I was out for 15 minutes."

Chief Stone nodded, "What time?"

"7:30."

Stone stood, looked at the dirt prints he'd left on the table and smiled at the men across from him.

"I'll get those warrants then, you men have a good day."

As he left he heard Hughes grumbling angrily.

"Lousy no good, son of a-"

The doors shut before he heard the rest.

Back inside Hughes' personal conference room the conversation was very interesting.

Hughes looked at his brother in law angrily, "Your daughter's birthday isn't for another _eight months_ Greg."

Moyer answered in an uninterested voice, "You wanted me to tell him this was the budget meeting? That we would throw something together to hand to Robinson so it looked like we had actually pulled the surrounding companies together? C'mon Hughes they all get their share, they just don't need to know it's a fraction of what you get."

Hughes frowned, "You make it sound like I'm a crook."

"You are."

"I didn't hurt Robinson though."

"I believe you, but there's obviously someone out there who wanted to."

"You seriously didn't know until he called?"

"I didn't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I don't watch television, it rots your brain."

Hughes was done with the conversation, "Alright Mr. I'm planning a party for my daughter, get back to the transcript you were preparing."

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Not more than two hours later Stone and Taylor sat together in The Chief's office.

"What have you found out?"

Officer Taylor sighed, "Not much. No shell casings at the scene, the rain washed away any evidence that could have been collected."

"Checked up on those alibis from Hughes and Moyer?"

"Hughes' story checks out, they combed through the building and he was on the list of those accounted for."

"Moyer?"

"Spoke with his wife this afternoon, she did have him pick up some things at the time he gave you." The rookie sighed, "We've lost our leads."

Chief Stone stared ahead, thinking to himself. Playing with the toothpick in his mouth he looked up at the board they had begun to put together.

"Not necessarily."

He stood slowly and paced in front of the timeline they had created. Something didn't seem right. Officer Taylor caught on to what his superior was already thinking.

He stood beside Stone, placing his hands on his belt. "Moyer's a shady subject."

"You think so too huh?"

"Mmm Hmm, just because he was picking up ice cream, doesn't mean he was at home all night.

Stone fired the rookie a look of approval, he slapped the man's shoulder as he left the room.

"I knew I made the right choice bringing you on to this case."

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Cornelius had abandoned the sling, he was tired of feeling like he was partially encased in a straight jacket. The arm couldn't move much but he was much more comfortable holding it still than having it strapped in place. He hadn't left his home in three days and it was driving him insane. He sat on the couch, his head resting against the back as he stared at the ceiling. He would twiddle his thumbs if it didn't hurt so much.

"No sign of a suspect yet, but officials are asking for anyone who may have any information to contact the local authorities immediately."

He looked at the television screen, a reporter standing not far from USR looking solemnly into the camera. The ticker tape across the bottom reading: Head of Robinson Industries shot, no suspect found. Other captions: Vice President yet to be released from hospital. Information involving the case? Please call 1-800-8439.

It wasn't late, but with the stress he'd been under along with the medication Dr. Matthews had prescribed he was exhausted. He stretched out the length of the couch and fell asleep easily, ignoring the voices of the reporters as they repeated the same headlines they had been since 7:00 the night before.

As Franny entered the house silently, she signaled to her son to do the same. She had known her husband would most likely be asleep when they arrived home. She wasn't expecting her son to go to school the rest of the week either. She stopped him quick and kissed his forehead as he passed her.

He allowed the show of affection before trudging off to his room. He flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Carl close by in the chair he had practically taken up residence in.

"How's Adam?"

Wilbur rolled on to his side, "Better, even though he kind of looks like he's been hit by a truck. They're letting his dad out today."

Carl's blue LED eyes blinked, "That's great, so why do you sound like it's not?"

Wilbur rolled back on to his back. "Because whoever shot my dad, is still out there."

Carl wasn't sure how to make his little buddy feel better. It wasn't like he could tell him everything would turn out fine. This was serious business, and he didn't like how it was affecting Wilbur's attitude. The boy shouldn't have to wonder what would happen every time he left his room.

He noticed Wilbur beginning to fall asleep. He could understand why Wilbur would have no interest in playing video games till all hours right now. He made the sound of clearing his throat, cleaver programming on Cornelius' part.

He spoke quietly, "They'll find them. I'm sure they will."

Wilbur clicked the lights to his room off. "I hope you're right Carl."

Carl sat in the darkness till Wilbur fell asleep, only voicing his worries out loud once he knew the teen was asleep.

"You and me both Little Buddy."

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Kelly Milton collapsed on to the over stuffed couch in her living room. Already changed out of her work clothes she curled into the corner and flipped the T.V. on. This had once been a nightly ritual with her husband and son. Every night, once homework and dinner were finished the three of them would sit on the couch and watch their favorite shows.

That had ended a year and a half ago.

It had been a Thursday, coming home from her son's Chargeball game. The rain had started just after the match. They had rushed to the car from the fast food restaurant they had stopped at to eat, laughing and joking the whole way. She remembered how hard to see the highway it had become, how the mood had gone from light and happy to edgy and nervous. The truck had begun to weave in the lane beside them.

She couldn't remember the rest, psychiatrists told her the emotional and physical trauma had pushed the memories from her mind. The final moments of her family were lost, and she had been living for over a year trying to block the rest from her mind. She had been under intense watch by her caretakers, doctors had concluded that she was very fragile and likely to break if her schedule or surroundings were changed at all. The past months she had slowly begun to show signs of getting closer to as normal a life as she was able to. They had begun to allow her more freedoms, less check ups from her doctors, and they had given the OK for the off hand jobs she had picked up.

The sudden headlines involving Robinson Industries concerned her doctors though. With everyone in Todayland looking over their shoulders her care takers were worried that she would begin to build the shell around herself that they had been working to demolish.

"Authorities aren't giving any information at this time on the Robinson shooting, but they ask that if anyone has information to please call as soon as possible."

Kelly was brought out of her thoughts and watched the story in front of her. She had heard about the crimes but had been off work that night. She had taken her physicians advice and stayed away from the story. The headlines caught her attention, though, and she stared at the screen in fascination. Court TV had once been her favorite station, she and her husband had taken great interest in the cases they showcased. She was surprised to see the familiar reporters, she didn't remember punching the numbers for this channel.

"We're here speaking with former prosecutor Nancy Grace, Nancy can you tell us the timeline that lead up to the shooting?"

"Good evening John, from what we've been told from authorities it seems like it was an ordinary day for Mr. Robinson. Dropped his son off at school, went to work, and then picked up his son from practice. The only thing I find odd is everything involving USR."

"As a prosecutor how do you feel about USR's refusal to give up certain information?"

"I personally find it very dubious, the only way to prove your innocence is to be as cooperative as possible. Forcing the police to go before a judge for a warrant does not look good at all John."

The local reporter paused, a slight delay in the satellite feed. "And what about the family Nancy? You were speaking of Robinson's son. Was he at the scene? Or is this disclosed information?"

Kelly leaned forward as she listened to Nancy's response. She felt a knot forming in her throat but couldn't think of why.

Nancy shook her head, "From what we know Wilbur Robinson was home at the time of the shooting, but as you've said John, authorities have not released everything as investigations continue."

The conversation between the two reporters suddenly fell on deaf ears. A recent picture of the Robinson boy was displayed on screen as they gave a brief history of his academic achievements and his role in the National Chargeball Championships. The picture displayed of Wilbur was from the last season of AYCA Chargeball. The boy sat posed in front of a goal, his glove and gear on display next to him.

Kelley's hand shot to her mouth, her other hand clutching desperately at the woven necklace about her neck. She stood shakily and walked to the kitchen in a daze. Leaning heavily on the counter she broke into hysteric tears. Nothing in her entire life could have prepared her for the intense pain she felt at that moment, tearing at the necklace she wore she threw it on to the counter. She glared at the letters carved into the silver beads with hatred, before breaking down once again.

She grabbed the picture frame she kept on the kitchen counter and looked at the smiling face in sorrow, tear drops falling onto the protective glass. There, sitting in front of a Chargeball court sat a smiling boy looking eerily similar to the boy on T.V. She traced her finger over the boy's face, and whispered a name she hadn't spoken in a very long time.

_"Sam."_


	6. And You Thought It'd Get Better

**Author Note: An update?!?! Really?!?! O.O No Way!**

**I must apologize to all of the wonderful people who have added this to their alerts or favorites. I had this chapter partially written, even before I had posted the last chapter, but then I stared at it for months and just wasn't sure what to do. I keep getting comments and reviews and that's what's really made me sit myself down and write, because you all are waiting. I've never finished anything before but I made a commitment when I posted this online, I can't abandon it like the many other unfinished fics on my computer.**

**So once again, I'm sorry it took so long, and I hope this doesn't disappoint, I'm afraid it's been so long my writing style may have been tweaked a bit and I hope the flow hasn't been disrupted because of that. I'm as nervous as I was when I posted the first chapter, I'm so afraid I've lost their 'voices' in my time away.**

* * *

Anthony Hughes stormed through his own office building, Todayland police milling through each room interviewing every employee unlucky enough to catch their eye.

He glared at Chief Stone, "Do you have any idea how much valuable time this is wasting? My employees should be working! Not answering irrelevant questions!"

The Police Chief had been there for hours, gathering information from his team and getting it into order for him to sort through back at the station. Stone eyed the man disdainfully, "Irrelevant? There was almost a homicide in your main parking lot and you think our presence is irrelevant?"

He moved towards the door, smirking at the irate man in front of him. "Now excuse me Mr. Hughes, I have some email to file through.

"You better have that warrant."

Stone pulled the order from his breast pocket, "Right here, signed by a judge and everything. How 'bout that?"

Hughes looked the paper over scrutinizing every line, looking for something that his eye for business law could pull out against the Police Chief. There was nothing, he conceded and stepped back, throwing his hands up.

"Fine, have at it."

Stone smiled mockingly as he left the building, "Oh I will."

His mood back at the station wasn't as smug though, so far all he had found were a bunch of memos detailing plans for USR's current projects and a few flirtatious emails from one employee to another. Nothing that could be connected with the Robinson case, he was beginning to become impatient. His own superiors were now urging him to move onto another case, to let the team work on this without him. He tossed the pen across the desk, grumbling to himself.

Taylor peeked his head around the door, "Sir?"

Stone leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "What have you got for me?"

The rookie seemed nervous, Stone became attentive, placing his elbows on the desk he leveled the younger man with a look. "What is it Taylor?"

The rookie shut the door behind him and sat in the chair before the Chief tensely. "Well sir, the board of commissioners is really pushing for you to take another case. They've given you a choice of two, they want the team to continue with the Robinson case but request that you take a look through these files."

Stone glared at the manila folders in Taylor's hand, both thick and almost unable to contain the reports that looked like they could spill onto the floor at any moment. He couldn't take either of them, Robinson was a personal friend. He would not drop this case, no matter what.

The rookie set them in front of him and he opened a file indifferently, not interested in the least as to what the papers said within. "As Chief of Police I can decide what cases I take on, they have no say in what investigations I am a part of."

Taylor handed another paper across the desk, "That was true sir, until certain people _bought_ themselves a position on the board."

Stone took the paper handed to him and read through the names slowly, brow furrowing in sudden recognition. He crumpled the paper and threw it into the waste basket on the floor.

He pushed the over stuffed files back across to Taylor. "You tell themthat I don't need any more cases, there are quiet a few names I can have put forward for them to choose from. I _will not _leave this case. I don't care who thinks they can decide that, I've never taken orders from them."

Taylor nodded and stood slowly, "Well then, if it's all the same to you sir, you can tell them yourself."

Stone laughed, "Not ready to stand up to your superiors yet Taylor?"

"Sir, I was told off by a thirteen year old yesterday. There's no way I can tell the board what you just said."

Stone laughed, looking back at the computer screen filled with a never ending list of emails. "You'll get there, it won't be long."

"I certainly hope not sir."

The rookie left without another word, leaving Stone to his email. The Chief laughed, even though he dreaded the hours of searching he had in front of him.

* * *

"Hello, Mrs. Andrews." Kelly Milton smiled warmly as she bounded up the steps to her home. Her obligations for the morning fulfilled until she'd have to don her other uniform for her second job. Thoughts of what she'd seen the night before had completely fled her mind as she held her palm to the palm reader at the door.

She glanced up at her neighbor's home, her expression concerned. "Mrs. Andrews?"

The white haired widow, swaying silently on her swinging bench, looked up at Kelly suddenly. If somewhat absently, the elderly woman had been battling Alzheimer's the past two years and would slip into her own world. Upon seeing Kelly, though, she smiled warmly and leaned against the porch railing.

"Hello there Missy, was I ignoring you again?"

Kelly stepped away from her front door, perching herself on her own porch railing. Dusting off her clean works pants, she folded her hands and nodded. "You were, Dear. I hadn't seen you this morning, I was worried."

Though dealing with her own problems, Kelly had felt somewhat responsible for the lonely women, no one else seemed to step forward.

She continued after a pause, "Have you been taking your medicine? Like I asked?"

"Have you been taking yours?"

Kelly's cheeks colored at that, she hadn't expected the little woman to use it against her. "Yes, Mrs. Andrews, I have been. So you have to keep your end of the deal and take yours. It's only fair, correct?"

The little old lady laughed at that, surprising the younger widow as she started speaking.

"Why does everyone need medication today, eh? I'm on something' they say will help my mind and I can barely make it down the steps in the morning. You got some happy pills-"

"Antidepressants." Kelly corrected quickly, not liking the topic.

"Right, your anti-whatsits, you look fine to me honey. Beautiful girl. Nothing for you to be depressed over."

Kelly closed her eyes briefly, counting to ten internally. Mrs. Andrews wasn't always the easiest to deal with.

"But I have been taking what I'm prescribed Mrs. Andrews, so you have to make sure you take yours. Unless you want me to come over every day to make sure you get them."

The old woman was incorrigible, "I can take care of myself, I've been on my own since you were still in skirts, standin' at Mama's side I imagine. I'm a big girl Missy."

Kelly only raised a brow and contemplated over what Mrs. Andrews had said. Here was a lone woman, dragging herself through the last stages of her life, as hard as that may be, with a smile on her face and her speech as cheeky as ever. Kelly stared past the woman, down the street, and wondered briefly if she would be like this one day. Shrugging off all help, even though it may cause her to live alone in seclusion.

She certainly hoped not.

She felt a headache starting and sighed, looking back at the older woman in slight defeat. She offered a final plea. "Please, Mrs. Andrews. Tell me you'll take what the doctor's have given you, if only for me. I'll be lonely without you, you know."

Kelly let her head hang slightly when she realized she missed her chance. Mrs. Andrews' moment of lucidity had come to an end, and the little woman was staring across the street vacantly.

She spoke aloud, hoping that wherever the elderly ladies mind was, maybe she could hear her.

"Well, I have work again tonight, Mrs. Andrews. I have some things to do around the house before then, so I'll see you tomorrow all right?" She hesitated before stepping through the door that had remained open throughout the conversation, sighing once she made it into the safety of her home and had deposited her bag on the counter.

Stepping to the cupboard she pulled out a bottle of painkillers and removed the recommended dosage. She then grabbed another bottle, this one orange with a doctor's instructions on the label and frowned down at the little tablets.

__

You don't need these.

She rolled them in her hand for a moment, reading the little printed word every time it came into view. Did she really need them? She really should take Mrs. Andrews example, if that little spitfire had been able to live after losing her husband, then shouldn't she be able to do the same? Was she only worsening her own life by not letting go of something no longer there?

She set the white tablets down and kept the red and blue Tylenol in her hands. Grabbing a water from the fridge she went into the living room, hoping to unwind in front of the television before lugging herself back to work. Flipping through all of the news stations quickly reminded her why she'd been so upset the night before.

Storming back out to the kitchen she snatched the white tablets from the counter, downed them with a gulp and decided a nap in her room was best.

There were no televisions there at least.

* * *

Wilbur sat with a blank expression on his face as he listened to the conversation in the kitchen.

"What do you mean he's going back? I thought he was released yesterday?" His father's voice no longer held that strong edge he was used to. It was tired, no exhausted, and this new information had really come like a punch to the gut.

Adam's dad had gone back to the hospital.

The raven haired teen tried to block it out, this wasn't happening. How could things get worse?

__

It could be your dad.

He jumped up at that thought, disgusted with himself for even thinking it, but once he was standing he didn't know what to do. He stared at his father's back, Cornelius faced away from him and stood looking out the window. He'd refused to keep his arm in the sling anymore but held it protectively against his side, and crossed it over his stomach.

"Stacey, you and Adam should come here. We have more than enough room, and we're closer to the hospital."

There was a pause, and Wilbur strained his ears through the silence to possibly hear what was being said on the other end. He wished he could see his father's face, he'd be able to get an idea then.

"It's not imposing! How could you ever think such a thing? Pack a bag or two and get away from that house." A pause, "Really Stacey, it's not a problem. Alright. You too. Bye."

The phone was replaced to the receiver with a dejected _click_, the founder of RI turning slowly to see Wilbur standing on the other side of the table.

"How long have you been standing there, Will?"

"Long enough."

The blond sighed and ran his good hand through his hair. "You heard about Adam's dad then."

Wilbur swallowed thickly, afraid to say anything at first. He played with the hem of his favorite shirt nervously. "What is it?"

"He's got severe abdominal pain, no one knows what's wrong yet. It's only precaution."

"Oh." Somehow that didn't help, not at all.

The teen ran a hand through his own hair, causing the older man to raise a brow. For Wilbur to purposely ruin his perfect hair meant more than the teen let on.

"Uh," Wilbur began. "When Adam gets here, tell him I'm in my room. Kay?"

There was more they both wanted to say, but couldn't bring themselves to.

"Of course, Will." _Everything will be fine._

"Thanks." _I'm not sure I believe you._

"MmHmm." _Please believe me._

They parted ways without saying what they should have.

Wilbur trudges up the stairs to his bed, veered away from it at the last second and found himself climbing through the window to the roof. His eyes widening comically at what he found there.

"Carl, what are you doing out here?!?"

"You almost sound like your normal self Little Buddy."

Wilbur lifted his brow in the often used expression of _I travel through time like no one's business_ for a moment. Letting it fall almost as soon as it had appeared. Being the cocky teen didn't look appealing right now.

"Really, why are you out here?"

Carl shrugged, the motion somewhat awkward with his gangly limbs. "You come out here all the time, wanted to know what all the hype was about."

Wilbur walked along the edge of the roof, much to the dismay of his artificial friend. "I come out here to be _alone _Carl. Meaning-" He paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. "Well, that I like to be alone out here!"

Carl's fingers itched to grab the teen and plant him on the flat surface he himself was seated on. The boy's pacing was beginning to get on his synthetic nerves, or make him dizzy. He wasn't sure.

"So you want me to leave?" He ventured a guess.

"Yes. No!" Wilbur spun around and looked at him, before letting his shoulders slump. "I don't know."

Carl's blue eyes blinked multiple times in the silence that followed. He could count on one hand how many times that term had escaped Wilbur's mouth, and hearing it now informed Carl of how upset Wilbur was, though the teen hid it well.

"You don't know?"

"No! Alright? I-" The teen turned away from him and Carl strained his programmed hearing to catch what the boy said.

"I just don't know."


	7. Not Out Of The Storm Yet

**Author Note: The previous chapter was the shortest I've posted so far for this story and I was disappointed in myself because of that. I like to keep them all a consistent length and that one was at least two pages shorter than the others, but now that I'm over that lump I can continue on to the main intrigue *evil grin* As if they weren't suffering enough.**

**This started out as an incredibly large project for me, (still is….I practically need a diagram to keep the plot straight) But there are some interesting little things that I have put links to on my profile, check 'em out :)**

**Now, on with the story!**

* * *

"He what?!"

Wilbur winced from his position on the other side of the door. His ear pressed to the wood, hoping to hear at least his father's side of the conversation on the phone. He'd left his room as quietly as possible, where they had set up a bed for Adam the night before. The boy had finally fallen asleep after hours of Wilbur trying to occupy him and get his mind off the fact that his father had returned to the hospital. Now with the other teen in an obviously less than peaceful sleep, he had crept down the hallway and was currently eavesdropping on his father.

"Stacey, slow down."

She'd gone to the hospital alone, not wanting to wake her son and distress him any more than he already was. Robinson was suddenly wishing he'd gone with her, or had Franny go with her, she was obviously not coping well.

"You're sure that's what they said?" Wilbur's throat constricted at the sound of his father's voice. Something had gone horribly wrong, he'd never heard that tone come from Cornelius Robinson before.

"Internal? Well, shouldn't they have found that during his first operation?"

Wilbur was snapped out of his efforts when a tinny voice sounded behind him.

"Wilbur, what are you doing on the floor?"

He snapped up and turned quickly to see Carl, leaning forward accusingly, blue LED's narrowed in a knowing fashion. In frustration, Wilbur grabbed him by his gold and springy neck, jerked his head closer, and covered Carl's mouth with a hand as he looked over his shoulder at the door.

His voice filled the empty hall as an abrasive hiss. "What are you _doing_?! Do you want me to get caught?"

Carl pulled himself back, disentangling the teen's hand from his neck. "No, but I was hoping that maybe Wilbur Robinson wouldn't stoop so low as to eavesdrop."

"It is not stooping low." Wilbur narrowed his eyes in offense. "I want to know what's going on, I'm tired of everyone pretending everything is fine. It's obviously not Carl!"

He noticed that Carl's attention was no longer directed at him, but over his shoulder.

High over his shoulder.

"Wilbur, what are you doing in the hallway? It's rather early don't you think?"

"Couldn't sleep." Was the lame reply as he turned around. _Wow, where has your creativity gone?_

Cornelius either didn't know how long Wilbur had been there, or decided to let it go.

"Was talking to Stacey, the doctors finished their operation."

"What did they find?" Wilbur tugged at his shirt, before realizing angrily that it was becoming a habit.

His father sighed, "Adam's dad is in bad shape, they'll take care of him."

"But-"

"Wilbur, you don't need to know the specifics." He went to step past his son, but Wilbur spun angrily on his heel and glared at his father, his words angry.

"I'm tired of not knowing what's going on!"

Cornelius turned to look at his son, "Wilbur, this isn't a game-"

"I'm not treating it like a game!"

"Then why can't you just listen to what we tell you?"

The teen glared at the wall a moment, refusing to look at his father. His expression dark when he did meet the older man's eyes. "I want to know who's after my friend's dad." He crossed his arms. "Who's after my dad."

The inventor opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Wilbur continued.

"I don't want to be left in the dark, I'm smart enough to know when people are keeping things from me. So don't tell me to just let it go, to go on with my daily routine. Whoever did this is still out there, I'm not oblivious."

"Will, I never said-"

"But you all do, you all keep things from us."

He passed his father without looking at him, back towards his room. "Gunna…..go see if Adam is up, go about our _daily routines._"

Cornelius couldn't help but scowl slightly at the back of his son's t-shirt. Then suddenly felt foolish, parents and children didn't act that way, until he reminded himself that they had been friends far longer.

* * *

Jesse Stone, Chief of Todayland police stood irately in front of Greg Moyer, who happened to be flanked by members of the board of commissioners.

"You have got to be kidding me."

The dark haired man before him leaned against the table slightly, hands folded under his chin. Even _that _looked arrogant. He didn't even need to speak and Stone felt like throwing something at him, just to get that _look _off his face, if nothing else.

Moyer shook his head seriously, "I don't believe _kid _is in my vocabulary."

"Since when have you been on the board Moyer?" Stone sat on the arm of a chair, crossing his arms.

The reply was calm, uninterested. _Like the rest of him, _Stone thought. Moyer seriously had the personality of mud. Arrogant mud, The Chief smirked at that, something to share with Taylor later. He was so wrapped up in his comparing Moyer to muck that he almost missed what the other man said.

"Long enough, if you would bother to show up to board meetings you'd know that."

"Since when have you ever needed me to be present at a meeting?"

This time another board member spoke out. "We always have, really, you just never attend."

Stone tilted his head somewhat, and rolled his shoulders in a gesture of forfeit. Sure, they had always ragged on him about it, but he did his job, rather well he would have to add. They'd known since he took the position that he was not really a conventional lawman. He'd come from a rural based background and was willing to do things aside from what the books told him. Hence the fact that he rarely listened to this group of people. He wasn't about to start catering to them now.

Moyer pressed on, "We gave you a number of cases to look into."

"They can go to another team."

"You're too close to this case." Moyer's brow knit seriously as a hard glint reflected in green eyes.

Stone uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, laying his palms hands down on the table top.

"Afraid I'll find something Moyer? Is my presence at USR uninvited?"

"I meant personally, you sot."

They're argument was interrupted by a woman at the end of the table. "Gentlemen, I believe that's enough."

It had close to the same effect as a teacher breaking up a fight on the playground, both parties backing down, but glaring daggers at their opponent.

The woman continued, ignoring their silent battle. "He is right, though, Mr. Stone, we had hoped you would take on another case."

Stone looked up at the woman, punctuating each phrase by jamming his finger into the table top. "I started this case, I'm remaining on this case, and I am going to solve this case. I have never been pulled from something before and I'm not about to start now."

A middle aged man, three seats down from Moyer spoke then. "You've never been personally involved either, Mr. Stone."

The man before the board looked away for a moment, not really sure he believed what he was hearing. His jaw was set when he looked back towards the group. "And if I continue to refuse?"

Moyer's expression was blank, but Stone felt he could hear a smile in the tone. Even if he couldn't see it on the man's face. "We can have your badge."

Stone raised an eyebrow coolly, "I don't think so."

The woman from before spoke up, "You can give us your reply tomorrow, Mr. Stone."

The Chief gave them all a look before grabbing his coat from the chair, flinging it over his shoulder as he turned to leave the room.

"You know what my answer is."

* * *

That afternoon found Stone and Taylor sitting in the family room of the Robinson family. Taylor flipped through reports and files of information as he listened to the conversation between the police chief and the man who had made it possible for him to do his work electronically.

The blond haired man removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. "They're trying to get you to resign?"

Stone nodded and set his glass on the coffee table between them, "I told them I refused, they've badgered me in the past over things before. I don't worry about them."

"Except Moyer is there now, they listen to him." Taylor interjected from where he sat, using the touch screen reader.

"Greg Moyer?" Cornelius glanced at the younger man, not seeing him very well since he had yet to return his glasses to his face. He twirled them idly with his good hand, something he often did while thinking, and brought his hand to his mouth, clicking the ear piece against his teeth.

"Never did like him."

Taylor snorted, setting his work aside before resting his head in his hands with a groan. "I can see why."

Their conversation was cut short when the two teenagers inhabiting the building came through the room. Both looked somewhat better than they had in the previous days, though Cornelius could tell both were still tired and in need of a good night's sleep.

"Where you off to Will?"

The teen grabbed his duffle bag from under a table, "Chargeball practice, not letting this ruin my chances at going to the championships."

The elder Robinson nodded, the public chargeball courts were in a heavily populated area, with the entire team surrounding the boys there was nothing for him to worry about. It also meant they were getting their mind onto other things, rather than sitting around the house and letting current events gnaw at them.

"Just stay-"

Wilbur cut him off, though not angrily, and nodded his understanding. "I know dad, we'll watch each other's back."

Though Cornelius wanted to see his son continuing his life, picking up the pieces that had shattered in the last week. There was also that part that wanted to pull him back through the door, plant him on the couch and never allow him to leave his sight.

As the front door shut behind the two boys, Stone turned to the healing man before him. His voice was low, concerned and understanding as he reached for the glass of soda on the table. His eyes remained on the ring of water it left on the glass table top.

"Heard Conner was sent back to the hospital."

Officer Taylor looked up at this, not having heard the news. His eyes rested curiously on Robinson, who sighed heavily and massaged his injured shoulder.

"He's bleeding."

Both men opposite him looked surprised, but the elder was the one to speak. "Bleeding?"

"Internally, they patched a few places up. They don't know if there are anymore," He paused, swallowing heavily around the word. "Lacerations."

The cool quiet that had pervaded turned to an icy silence. The family room suddenly becoming an uncomfortable place to be.

Taylor cleared his throat quietly, afraid to say anything and break that silence. The mood had obviously shifted and he felt like he was teetering on a thin sheet of glass, one wrong move and everything that had been gained would once again collapse. How much had they really gained though? Cornelius Robinson sat before him, injured and with a family fighting against panic. Jake Conner was lying sedated in the hospital and they had close to no leads.

"Have- have you uh, spoken to him at all?"

Robinson seemed to jump out of whatever world he'd drifted away to, and looked at the young officer sadly, shaking his head.

"No, he's been under since the operation."

"And Mrs. Conner?"

Cornelius drummed his fingers on the arm of the overstuffed couch he was seated on. Concentrating on the strain he could feel in the muscles of his shoulder, rippling down his arm as the energy met his fingertips while he answered.

"Franny took her out, went for coffee I think. She needed to get out of the house."

The other two nodded, and no longer wanting to bother his friend, Stone moved to his feet slowly and held out his hand. Robinson nodded once and shook the offered hand firmly, closing his eyes as Taylor went about organizing his things and returning them to his messenger bag. Opening them again, the blond was surprised to see the young officer in front of him, holding his hand out and looking at the man still seated on the couch with a determined gaze.

"We'll find 'em, Mr. Robinson. They won't get away with this."

He nodded his thanks, took the offered hand and allowed the younger man to help him stand. He listened distractedly as the two bounced ideas off the other and spoke of what needed to be done at the station. After saying their goodbyes he let the door shut slowly, and frowned slightly at the last statement he heard.

"Get in the car Taylor, lets get as much done before they take my badge."

* * *

Wilbur was happy for the fact that summer was on the way, it meant the days were lengthening. Which also meant there weren't any shadows in the alleys as he walked down the sidewalk beside Adam. Despite this fact, he still couldn't help but glance down each neat row of houses as if something were about to jump out at him.

"Are you even listening to me? Will?"

He jumped slightly at being caught off guard. "Huh? What? Sorry-"

"I said, were my blocks okay at practice."

Wilbur thought back an hour, "Yeah, actually. Better than I expected them to be."

"You're a horrible liar."

"I'm not lying!"

Adam sighed, closing his eyes momentarily as they walked. "Sorry Will, I'm just-"

"I know," Wilbur answered slowly, "You don't have to say anything."

Silence fell over the pair, both becoming lost in their own thoughts as they rounded the corner. Rather close to Adam's house actually. Wilbur tensed when he heard a slight sniff at his shoulder and chanced a look at the other boy. It was clear to see that Adam was having a hard time controlling his racing thoughts and it was beginning to get the better of him. The boy's eyes were glassy, brimming with tears and holding a far away look.

"Hey." He said softly, trying to get the others attention. Only succeeding in getting Adam to stop, the boy stared straight ahead and it was easy to see that he was fighting very, _very _hard not to let his tears fall.

Wilbur swallowed thickly, the knot in his stomach returning. Well not really returning, it had been there since this whole ordeal began, but it tightened suddenly and he blinked rapidly a few times to keep himself in check. Two teenagers, standing in the middle of the city crying, how would that look? That's when he realized neither of them had shown their fear this way, it had finally reached the boiling point and decided _now _it needed to be released?

He stepped in front of the other teen and put his hands on Adam's shoulders, kneeling slightly to meet Adam's eyes when the weary boy tried to hide them. "Hey."

What was there to say? He couldn't really go saying, _hey everything's fine, your dad will be there when we get back to my house._

He knew that was a lie. He'd pieced parts of conversations together from the family during the day and knew that Jake was in horrible condition. He remembered his father saying the word _internal_ numerous times and shuddered at what that could mean. He hadn't said a word to Adam though, of course.

He felt awkward, but not knowing what else to do he merely pulled the other boy into an embrace. Letting him know that there were people there to help him through this, no matter what the outcome may be. He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, but it seemed only seconds. Adam sniffed loudly, blinking away tears that refused to go away.

"What if he-"

"Don't," The dark haired teen stepped back. "Don't even think something like that. Your dad's gunna be fine."

"How do you know?" The other asked miserably, drying his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"I'm Wilbur Robinson."

There was a slight burst of strained laughter, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Yeah, you hear it pretty often too…..since I'm your only friend an' all."

That line earned him a punch in the arm. "Shut up, Robinson."

"Sure, as long as you quit crying."

They slowly moved down the sidewalk again, passing houses and no longer looking down the alleys. Adam's sniffles slowly subsided as they made it to the end of the block and he looked up.

"Hey, Wilbur?"

The slightly taller, gangly thirteen year old looked up curiously, acknowledging Adam but didn't say anything. The puffy eyed boy sighed once.

"Thanks."

_The_ _Wilbur Robinson _smile returned, after having been missing for days.

"Don't mention it."

Three houses down, from a swinging bench, Kelly Milton watched the exchange with wide eyes and a broken heart.


	8. Helping Hands

****

Author's Note I feel so incredibly awful...this poor thing sits for months and months with no attention what so ever. First off, the computer with all of the previous chapters of this is beyond dead. Died months ago, probably not long after my last update. So along with losing that, I lost my document that plotted the entire story out, every little twist to the smallest detail...

**I was so busy over the summer I barely wrote anything and the past few days I've looked this over again and again. I even had to read the last few chapters to remember where I was going with this. Then Youtube decided to mute my trailer...that really upset me LOL**

**Anyway, I apologize, I hope to get this going again. I had so many ideas but I'm borrowing a computer and half of what I had planned to go with this will have to wait till the other is fixed. Until it is, I can just hope to find the time to pick this up again. **

**Thanks to everyone who is following this! Especially those who have sent me awesome things. I've added to my profile page, go look!**

**Long Author's Note is long...I apologize...**

* * *

It had been another three days, Jake Conner _was still_ laying in a hospital room with little information coming through on what was going on. Cornelius had just about had enough at this point. He'd been patient and level headed, but a growing dread was spreading through him slowly and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He was tired of being stuck in the house also, while it was far from small. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him slowly. He hadn't worked on any projects, had forgotten ideas he had wanted to start before this had all begun and had no idea what was going on at RI.

"Never saw this coming did you? Of course not...you told Wilbur not to go back and warn you..." _What? Now we're talking to ourselves, lovely._

The phone gave off a shrill ring and he turned his head, almost in slow motion, to look at it. Nothing good had come from that phone ringing in the last few days and he had the sudden thought that he should possibly ignore it. A chill ran through him with each sound given off and finally it got the better of him. He leaned over the end of the couch, reaching with his good arm and felt the strain of holding himself up as he poised his hand over the receiver, giving it one last chance to stop ringing.

No such luck.

He picked it up and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Robinson."

He recognized the voice immediately as Stone, and the tone he was speaking in was not making him feel any better. He wasn't normally a nervous man by any means, but this was really beginning to take a toll on him.

"Jesse."

"They won."

He didn't know what that meant, but Stone apparently was expecting him to. "Who?"

"The board, they took my badge."

No, this was not Robinson's day at all.

"Oh...Jesse, I'm-"

"Don't say you're sorry, I handed it to them. I'm not letting them tell me what I can and can't work on." That didn't mean he'd drop this case either, he'd already spoken it over with Taylor. The younger man was still working this case, and any information he gained, the slightest thing, whether directly related or not, was going to be relayed to the suspended Chief.

"Alright." The blonde's glasses came off and he rubbed his eyes, trying to process what he'd just been told.

"I'll keep in touch though Robinson, it doesn't mean I'm done."

"I figured you would say as much."

There was a light chuckle on the other end of the line, some non verbal communication agreeing with Cornelius' unspoken thoughts. That they'd been friends far longer than oddly placed colleagues. This wasn't about to make Stone back down, it would very likely only make him work harder.

"Well thanks, I apreciate it." Was the first comment after a long silence, Robinson feeling he needed to say something.

"Of course."

After a somewhat more solemn goodbye than what he would have liked. Cornelius hung up the phone, stood slowly and went to check on Wilbur. Within the past twenty four hours the two teens sharing the house had finally reached a breaking point. They dealt with what was going on differently, Adam closing up, withdrawing from anything going on around them. Whereas Wilbur wanted to be in the thick of it. This of course had led to an argument, and to get the riled teens apart for a while, Adam's mom had taken him into town, hoping to get his mind off things. Cornelius understood both points of view and had tried to talk to Wilbur about it but the boy wasn't going to have any of it. He'd gone off on his own, rooting through things the way he did when he want to occupy himself.

Cornelius paused in the hallway, listening to what came from his son's room. He concluded the teen must have stumbled upon Grandpa Bud's old records, because this was certainly from way before even his time. There were scratches and pops in places and he tried not to laugh when he'd hear Wilbur yell at the ancient record player for 'hurting' the vinyl disks.

_I've got no time for you right now, don't bother me. _

He took the few more steps to Wilbur's room and knocked on the door, but he doubted it would be heard over the classic rock coming from within. After waiting a few moments he figured that he was right and that the teen hadn't heard him. He tried again.

Finally the door slid open and Wilbur was perched on the end board of his bed. In a normal parent/child relationship he would have been yelled at to get down, but the elder Robinson was so used to the sight that he payed it no mind. The lyrics drifting through the room gave him a fairly good idea of what the teen was feeling though.

_Don't come around, leave me alone, don't bother me._

He sighed, "Will."

"Shh! I'm trying to learn this song."

"I'm sure you'll have time..." He stood in front of the dusty and archaic machine, looked at the "Parlophone" label on the black vinyl album, surprised the thing wasn't warped beyond recognition.

When he flicked the switch and the music died, Wilbur flopped back onto the bed with an expression of annoyance.

"I came to check on you."

"I'm fine, great, never better, you can go."

"Wilbur." His eyes narrowed slightly and he started up the stairs, "Your attitude isn't helping anyone."

Wilbur had gone from being annoyed, to downright angry with how he was being treated in this whole mess. He may not be on the same level his father was at this age but he was far from stupid or immature, which was how he felt he was being treated. So instead of gracing his father with a reply, he only remained where he was on the bed and stared at the record player, wishing that the older man had invented some kind of telekenetic device that could help him turn that machine back on from where he was.

"Why won't you talk to me anymore?" Cornelius looked him over, knew it was common for children to be this way, but had always thought they were friends first.

His answer was a shrug, "I don't feel like talking."

He sighed, yet again, felt like this was becoming a habit. "Why don't you go for a walk? Just stay-"

"In the open, I know..."

He watched the boy sit up, apparently taking his suggestion without verbally saying so. Wilbur paused then, glancing at the record player. "Where can I get that music? It still on the net?" He wanted to put it on his iPod to take with him.

Cornelius smirked and pointed to the computer, "It's old, but you're bound to find it."

* * *

Though he would never admit to having anything in common with Cornelius Robinson, there was no denying Anthony Hughes shared the other inventor's view when it concerned the telephone. He'd thought that with Stone no longer on the case revolving around the man he'd have the police off his back and he'd be able to return to work. As corrupted as it may seem to the every day onlooker.

But no...

That rookie, whatever his name was, now seemed to be leading the case. A poor choice if you asked him, putting someone so green in charge of such an investigation. Since then, Hughes had barely gone a day without getting a call or personal visit from the young man. It wasn't only him, the entire company was continuously stalled in it's progress because they were catering to whatever the authorities wanted.

What upset him most, were some of the things this kid was aking. The level of these quesitons were on a higher level than what the rookie should know. Hughes wasn't stupid, he knew everything he said was making its way back to the man he and Greg Moyer had made a point of getting out of their hair. The questions were obviously put together by Stone, and that nosey little kid, who barely deserved to be wearing his uniform, was merely a go between.

Pathetic.

While he mused over all of this, the phone continued to ring. He could easily let it go, let the machine pick it up and let Taylor ramble in a recording. He was too smart for that though, despite how much Hughes was currently belittling him. The young officer would never leave a message, instead he'd just track him down.

So after glaring a few more moments, he finally reached out and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Anthony." His brows rose until they almost disappeared in his hair line. He'd been expecting the wrong person on the other end.

He'd never expected to hear Cornelius Robinson.

"Robinson, pleasant surprise." Since when have we been on a first name basis?"

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, but it sounded far from amused, in truth it almost sounded dangerous. To be honest, Hughes was surprised _The Father of the Future_ could feel any emotion other than the "Keep Moving Forward" attitude. It intrigued him.

Before he had a chance to comment though, Robinson was answering him.

"I think the situation constitutes using first names."

"And what situation would that be?"

He was met with another of those low sounding laughs, and this time was beginning to wonder which he liked more. At this point, it was safe to say "Keep Moving Forward" Cornelius was easier to deal with, as opposed to this, "Mess with me and I'll have your head" Cornelius.

Because it wasn't an outright threat, it was only a change in the tone and what was being said. A more passive sounding warning that only made him nervous because it left him wondering just what was going to happen or what was really going to set the man off. He was dragged ubruptly from his thoughts when the man spoke once again.

"Having the lead investigator taken off a case very important to myself, I believe that is the situation."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Don't play the innocent, Hughes, you were a key role in making that possible. I know you love recognition. I'm only giving credit where credit is due."

"That had nothing to do with _any_of the cases under investigation. I'm very offe-"

Robinson cut him off, his voice still carrying that edge. "It had everything to do with it, Anthony. Something isn't matching up, and you've chosen the wrong people to mess with."

It was true, going up against some of the smartest people of the their time was not a good idea. Whether it was something as petty as this board business or something more serious.

Cornelius was beginning to believe it was more serious.

"You've yet to ask how Jake Conner is doing." He bit out.

"How is he?"

"It's considered a common courtesy, you know." Cornelius continued without paying any mind to the question, whether there was genuine feeling behind it or not. He hated when people were like that, only doing something when it was specifically brought to their attention or they were called out on it.

"What was the reason behind this call Robinson?"

If the other man could sound any more threatening in only voice it was now. "I never received those transcripts you promised, though I doubt I'll be seeing anything valid from you soon. What I'm more concerned about at this point Hughes is this; I want you to stay away from my family, you hear me? I don't even want to hear your name in passing." This whole thing concerning Jake had finally reached a breaking point with him, and the fact that everything seemed to be revolving around USR made his dislike for this man only intensify.

"Is that a threat? That could get you in trouble."

"Not a threat, Hughes. It's a promise. I won't say it again."

"Or what?"

He was met with the dial tone. The steady note filling the silence on the other end of the line.

He wasn't a nervous man usually, but he'd never been spoken to in such a way, especially by the man who'd just hung up on him. He set the reciever down, staring at the computer screen in front of him in stunned silence. It took a few moments before he set himself to rights, and surprisingly, the first thing he reached for was the phone.

"More trouble than this is worth..."

* * *

Jesse Stone, _former_ Chief of Police, was afraid he was slowly going insane. Scratch that, he knew he was. While he'd always made the best of what little time he ever had off, now it only wore him down. There was more than enough time to do anything he wanted now.

He just didn't want it this time.

Stone lived outside of Todayland, in a rather rural and secluded setting. His home was quaint, not very large considering he'd lived on his own since the death of his wife some years before he took the position he'd just been suspended from. The only company being the black and white herding dog that followed his every move.

Stone was currently set up outside, on his property was a small lake with a dock. A row boat, tethered securely to the pillar bobbed in the water and held his attention at the moment. While he lived in one of the most technologically advanced times, nothing could compare to some of the older rudimentary things in life. He was what most called "A Traditionalist" He was fine with staying a few steps behind everyone else as far as progress went.

That didn't mean the _interior_ of his home wasn't up to date with the latest and greatest, but he was more of an outdoors type anyway.

The dog at his side ripped it's attention from him, ears perked up and looking in the opposite direction, giving away the fact that someone was there. He waited in silence, there were only so many people openly welcome on his property, seeing as he was a very private man, and he highly doubted Robinson would be up and running around, the man's arm was still barely in the beginning stages of healing.

So to say the least, he wasn't that surprised when Tzylor suddenly appeared at his side, looking far from pleased.

"Alright," Stone started slowly. "Hit me with it, whatever it is."

"Got a call from Hughes earlier this afternoon..."

The older man was genuinely surprised by this. "_He _actually contacted _you_?"

This was met with a grim sounding laugh. "Yeah, but only to put in a complaint."

"What's his problem this time?"

"Robinson gave him a call I guess."

The answer was met with a short silence, the suspended Chief mulling over that little bit of information for a moment before speaking.

"And-?"

Taylor sighed once, his shoulders falling. "I guess he made it pretty clear to Hughes what could happen if he finds out the man in behind any of this."

"Well I don't blame him."

"Neither do I, but if it gets out to other people, they'll deem it as a threat and-"

Stone raised a hand slowly, cutting the younger officer off before he went full 'text book' mode on him. "I know, doesn't mean I disagree with him though."

"What happens now then?"

"You just continue with investigating, I'll keep my eye on Robinson. He isn't brash enough to do anything dangerous."

By now Taylor was kneeling, his attention split have between Stone and the dog at his feet. It would be a long night, he had a bit of information to relay to the other man.

* * *

Wilbur had been wandering town for only about half an hour to forty-five minutes. _Would have left the house earlier..._ He grumbled mentally. _If there hadn't been so much music to go through._

He was oblivious to just about everything around him, flipping through the iPod and going back to listen to certain songs over and over again. He couldn't help it though, he found some of it addicting, and he was a teenager. He _needed_ music.

Rounding a corner, he glanced up and realized he was in close vicinity to Adam's house, but instead of smiling, this brought a frown to his face. Their argument had been pretty bad and he wasn't going to go seek out the other teen any time soon. While he was still sympathetic to the other boy's plight, he just wasn't looking forward to running into him again until things had settled down.

The dark haired boy was ripped from his internal musing by a voice to his left. Pausing, he looked to see who it was and if they were possibly trying to get his attention, considering the headphones had been turned up fairly loud.

"Sorry, wha-?"

"I said that music's pretty loud...can hear it from all the way over here." Was the friendly response.

"Oh, yeah." He smirked and turned the music player off. "I want to make sure I can't hear by the time I'm out of high school."

"Well you're well on your way." The woman laughed, smiling at his attitude. "Somewhat surprised at what you're listening to though."

He glanced at the device once before shoving it in his pocket. "I found some of my Grandad's old music." He shrugged, "I like it."

"Understandable, there are few people or bands that stand the test of time. Those that do only do for a reason." She went back to what she was doing, which was trying to unload her hover car of groceries. There were far too many bags to carry on her own, so she was moving them from the car to the sidewalk, planning on making trips back and forth into the house instead of leaving the back of her vehicle open and unattended.

Wilbur raised a brow and watched in silence for a moment, at first was going to say something quick to excuse himself but stopped. There was no reason he couldn't help her right? After everything that had been going on, something he should have taken away from these past week or so should have been something like learning to give a helping hand? Take the initiative to help someone with even the smallest task? He wasn't a selfish kid by any means but suddenly had a nagging thought itching at the back of his mind. He couldn't even tell if it was that exactly, but he couldn't ignore the fact that this person would probably appreciate even the gesture, or just the question as to whether they would like help. So he took a step toward the car, tilting his head slightly.

"Do you need any help? I'm not doing anything or-"

"It's alright hun," The woman said, "I think I can handle this on my own. It's not unappreciated but I'm ok."

"Are you sure? I'm just out on a walk, it would only take a few minutes, I don't have anywhere to be."

She paused and looked at him before closing the back of the hover car. "If you're so insistent than I guess there's no harm in it."

Wilbur smiled, picking up a few bags. "I am insistent, it's my middle name."

Kelly Milton only smiled.

* * *

**AN2: If anyone knows what the music is that Wilbur has, or even what the song is and who it's by, mention it in a comment. The first to get it right will get a request from me. :) Those of you who know me fairly well will probably get it lol.**


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